


Dead Pope Society

by The_Black_Cassock



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Antichrist, Anticipation, Car Sex, Catholic Guilt, Catholic School, Church Sex, Churches & Cathedrals, Declarations Of Love, Developing Relationship, Drunk Sex, Falling In Love, Fictional Religion & Theology, Fluff without Plot, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Improper Use of Catholic Rituals, Italian Character(s), Italiano | Italian, Latin, Love, Love Bites, Love Confessions, Love Stories, Love Triangles, Love at First Sight, Lust, Male-Female Friendship, Not a Love Story, Oral Sex, Paranormal, Platonic Relationships, Plot, Porn With Plot, Public Sex, Roman Catholicism, Rough Sex, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Sexual Content, Shower Sex, Teacher-Student Relationship, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vaginal Sex, Witchcraft, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 04:17:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17891342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Black_Cassock/pseuds/The_Black_Cassock
Summary: The Rise and Fall of an Era





	1. Chapter 1

   Papa Emeritus the Second was a terrifying man. He was egotistical and self centered on top of just being a genuine ass hat. Thank Satan he was so close to 'retiring'. My parents nearly had a heart attack when I told them I wasn't going to finish school and was devoting myself entirely to Lucifer Morning-Star and wished to become a Sister of Sin. They asked if I knew what the Papa over there was like.

"Honey, he is a very angry looking man to work for", my mother scoffed.

"And why does he need to wear all that make-up?"

"I don't know, momma. He just does.", I tell her. This is about the millionth time she's asked about his skull paint.

"He is the leader of the entire church. He is Papa. He earned his skull paint."

"You don't even speak Italian", was my dad's best attempt to squash my plan.

 

     In the short time I had been with the church I only had contact with the man once if it could even be called contact. Any time he passed in front of someone their eyes were to remain forward or their heads bowed. I wasn't entirely sure what he looked like straight on except pissed all the time.

     It was one of the first nights in my new room and I couldn't sleep. There was a strict no phones, no internet, no nothing in the Sister's living quarters. Ever. Plus, it was like some kind of scary movie, there was a huge thunderstorm pouring down so hard it sounded like someone was throwing gravel at my window. There was no sleeping in that. I got out of bed, wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and as silently as I could, crept out of my room without waking up my roommate. Who, by some miracle, was sound asleep. It was quieter in the hall, but now that I was out of my room I wasn't sure where to go. A huge crack of thunder crashed through the skies vibrating the floors and the walls. I had to cover my mouth to keep a shriek from escaping my lips. I wrapped my blanket tighter around myself and turned right toward the Sanctuary. My heart was still racing from that last roll of thunder and it reminded me of the storms when I was little. Any time there was a thunderstorm my mother would come into my room and tell me it was "The Lord's brother upstairs bowling", and to this day I hate bowling. Never bowled anything in my life, but I still hate it because the big guy in the sky was being loud and it hurt my ears. Thinking of this and hearing the soft 'clickclick' 'clickclick' of my bare feet on the hard floor and feeling sort of nostalgic I decided I wanted to take a peek at the storm from the massive picture window that looked out over the prayer garden. I turned the corner and stopped cold at the sight of him. He was glaring out the window twirling his staff with his thumb and forefinger. I saw he wasn't wearing his hat. Then I couldn't see anything when the brightest bolt of lightning flashed and flooded the hall, but no thunder. Once my eyes adjusted to the darkness again I noticed that hewass completely unphased by the blinding light. He blinked. Then ever so slowly turned his head in my direction. Panic set in. I was not supposed to be out of my room. I was not supposed to be wearing only a big white t-shirt and blanket roaming the halls at night. I was not supposed to be looking directly at him, but fear had me paralyzed. We were both in shadows until another soft flare of light seeped in through the window. The soft illumination showed all of this and Papa Emeritus' face twisted as if he had been gut shot. Fuck fuck fuck! He turned to face me fully and slowly approached at that same gate he always marched. I'm still just standing there. I can't run. If I had been smart I would have bolted back to my room at the first sight of him. He never looked at us. He would never have known it was me. As he came closer, by instinct, being stubborn and strong willed, I maintained eye contact and lifted my chin. Too late to look away now. He stopped in front of me with a small tap of his staff on the floor and just stared at me. It looked like he was in pain. Was he about to have a heart attack? He was old, but he wasn't that old. Was he? I blink and swallow. His face was angry again, but this time he looked like he wanted to eat my heart directly out of my chest and without saying a word he brushed past me and down the hall. Papa Emeritus turned the corner opposite of where my Hall was and I broke into a dead run back to my room. Ripping open the door, the blanket caught on the doorknob and tugged a corner loose. A corner of blanket I stepped on, slipped on and went crashing to the floor on. I scramble to get up, get the blanket back and shut the door with a hard slam, leaping into bed like a kid afraid of the monsters beneath. Wide eyed and panting I look across the room to my roommate. Shit. Thinking I'll probably have to bribe her back from hating me for this one I realized she hadn't budged from where I left her a few minutes ago. Lucky bitch. After that last break of thunder when I left my room there had been no more. Only soft rumbles here and there. Not even with the blasts of lightning. It was nice and quiet and I started to feel tired after my near death experience with the head of the entire church. With the adrenaline rush fizzling out I snuggled deep into my pillow and blankets and fell asleep.

 

     It's been three months since that night and I was never approached about it. I'd passed Papa Emeritus' path multiple times in those three months and nothing. None of my superior Sister's confronted me about it. It was like he hadn't told anyone. It had been three months since that night and today was Succession day. Papa Emeritus the Second was to step down as Papa and his younger brother was to step up as his replacement. We hadn't heard much of the youngest Emeritus son except that he was only the youngest by a few months. The Succession Ceremonies always took place in the Sanctuary. The far left sections of pews were for the Ghouls, the middle section was for Senior Sisters and the far right was for the Junior Sisters. Papa Emeritus was standing at the pulpit yammering on in Italian about himself as his interpreter scrambled to keep up. He was no longer wearing his skull paint or robes. He seemed so unaffected by leaving the church. He was wearing just a plain black suit, it was probably Gucci or some shit like that knowing him, and a pair of sunglasses. Inside! While giving a speech before retiring. What an ass. When he was finally finished we all stood, applauding, as he walked down the aisle with his arms outstretched like always. Everyone turned as he passed them, heads no longer bowed, and headed towards three very beautiful, very young women. As he passed through the doors each lady was taken under a wing in one smooth motion as if it were a normal thing the four of them did. Then he was gone.

After everyone was seated and quiet again they did the whole introduction thing for the Emeritus brother. He was the youngest and now the newest Papa, blah blah very boring. Finally they announced him, but he wasn't the first one to come into sight. The Nameless Ghouls were. The elite from each elemental tribe. In single file, hands clasped behind their backs, they lined up against the back wall behind the pulpit as they entered: Water, Fire, Ether, Air and Earth. Facing forward as they fell in line they folded their hands before them, right hand on left wrist. It was like watching a military formation. It was sexy in a why I can't really describe except testosterone. They were in beautifully tailor black tunics with the elements stitched on the right breast. Their specific element emboldened. Their masks followed suit in beauty and detail. They looked so human and so godlike at the same time. Then he was there, breezing through the door with a charismatic swagger his brother lacked. He is beautiful. His skull paint is so bright and crisp. Jet black and stark white with harsh, clean edges. He looks so.. Man, I don't know what he looks, but I can't look away. I am the moth and he is the flame. His face is intense, but not angry. He looks severe. This was exactly what I did not need. To be drooling over the Spiritual leader of the congregation I just joined for life.

As he approached the stand he was passed a microphone instead of using the one connected to the stand itself. Instead of standing behind the podium he stands off to the side and props his elbow on it. When he speaks it isn't Italian. It's English. Broken english, but English nonetheless. "Hello." He purred. His voice was like silk and sandpaper at the same time. He straightens, gesturing wildly with his free hand and shouts, "How are you doing?".

Silence.

We're all stunned.

Who is this man?

He is the new Papa, but the most animated Papa that ever was. It's still silent. The kind of silence that sounds like a far off roar.

Static.

Clearing his throat, "Hmm, yes, anyway!".

Was he for real? He continues his speech with his hands more than his voice. Hands gloved as customary, but they have gold nails on them that he sometimes clicks on the podium trying to find the right word. No one took their eyes off him for a second. He walks from one side of the stage to the other, and our eyes follow. At one point he TOSSES the mic from one hand to the other.

I think I love him.

I'm jolted out of my starry eyed trance by everyone applauding. Was it over? Why? What happened? Was I even listening? A Senior Sister scurries to retrieve the microphone, but instead of letting it go when he hands it over he grabs her hand and kisses it and gives it a little squeeze. I have never seen someone's eyes get so big and face so red so fast. He winks and hands her the mic with a pat on the shoulder and just leaves her there.

Oh, he's dangerous.

What has Hell unleashed on this house of worship? We all rise as he passes down the aisle to exit followed by his band of Ghouls. The Fire ghoul sees some Junior Sisters making eyes at him so snaps his finger at them and opens his hand palm up to show a small flame in the shape of a heart and they nearly faint.

Come on girls, get a grip.

Papa takes his time shaking hands and winking at Sisters that in turn giggle and bump into each other. I have an aisle seat and when he gets closer it's like my ears needed to pop. There is such a heavy vibration in the air that I stick my finger in my ear and wriggle it around seeing if I could fix it, but it doesn't work. I refocus my attention on Papa Emeritus the Third as he holds a Senior Sister's hand in both of his, smiling. He pats the back of it and lets go as he turns his attention toward my side of the aisle where he stops dead in his tracks as his eyes fall on me. There's that Emeritus flame in his eyes. Hatred? It's stern for sure. I knew I had some PMS acne, but was it that bad? Did his brother inform him of a certain errant Sister that can be found roaming the halls at night half naked?

Probs. Super.

He slowly glides towards me as the last of the joyous conversation around us dies under his sudden mood change. Don Juan to, well, Papa Emeritus the Second. I can't break eye contact now. It would be a sign of weakness. He stops before me and never takes his eyes off mine.

"Sister." It's not said in disappointment, but perhaps astonishment?

"Papa Emeritus." I bow my head and weave my fingers before my chest in a prayer clasp. I do not look back up.

"Sister."

"Yes, Sir?"

"Would be so kind as to look at me, Sister?" 

I do as he asks. He huffs air out of his nose and his jaw tightens when our eyes meet again.

"What is it they call you, my Sister of Sin?"

My name? He wanted my name?? Oh Lord in Hell this was not going well.

"You want my name?", I ask as my eyebrows shoot to the roof. I still can't process this. That balding bastard is not only bald and a bastard, but he's also a snitch!

"If you would be so kind, yes."

"MY name?"

Am I stupid or am I stupid. It's been decided long ago that what he wants from me IS MY NAME. I can tell he is starting to loose patience by his clipped tone.

"Your name Sister, what is your name?"

"My name is Cirice."


	2. Emeritus

"Are you nervous?"

"No, why would I be nervous?"

"Because this is kind of a life changer."

I just shrug. Even if I were nervous I wouldn't show it. I had made my choice, or better yet, it had made me.

I'm backstage listening to the dull roar of everyone gathered in the Sanctuary.

Waiting.

Waiting for me. Waiting for me to what? Bless them? Show them how to live more fulfilling and sinful lives? I'm looking at myself in the full length mirror not recognizing anything I am seeing. The hat, fuck, what was it called again? MMmmitre? Eh, I'll probably never have to actually say it. The robes weren't that big of a deal. I used to play in Father's old robes along with my brothers. The gloves were pretty kick ass though. I hold my hands out parallel to the floor so the gold nails catch the lights and I wiggle my fingers so the reflections change. Father's going to kill me for this one. I drop my hands and stare back at myself in the mirror. It was the paint. I have my Skull paint. I didn't want the old school paint that had those fake teeth drawn on like my brother's. I've been told my bottom lip is an excellent feature by those who should know and I wanted to accentuate it. Jet black and stark white. No blending, just hard straight lines. This was the first time I have ever had Skull paint on my face. As kids we had been strictly forbidden to wear any kind of Skull paint, even if we were just playing. It's sanctified and ceremonious.

I have my Skull paint.

I take a deep inhale as one of my Nameless comes to stand behind me, looking at me in the mirror. He towers over me. Fucker.

"Are you sure you aren't nervous?", he asks again, already knowing the answer.

"I mean, this is kind of a life changer.", I say. He just rolls his eyes and brushes me out of the way to fix his uniform in the mirror that's never out of place to begin with.

"Are you nervous?" Oh, I had him now. Even through the mask I can see the scowl.

"Is someone nervous? Are you a nervous Ghoul? Are you a nervous Ghoul?" I keep pinching at him with the nails on my gloves as he inches away, but not far enough before I grab his ass and dig the nails in. He pushes his hips forward and swats at my hand.

"What the fuck! is wrong with you?"

"Un Sacco!", my brother shouts, accompanying the loud slam of the door he just let himself in through. We both jump. He strolls over to me, eyeing me up and down before shaking his head.

"Quindi questo è il nostro nuovo papà." He's still wearing his sunglasses for some reason. Probably because he's an ass hat.

"English! We all know you speak it. No, I'm not translating for you anymore.", I snap at him. Why is he here? He is the number one person who should not be here.

"You talk better in English than any of us. You're just trying to piss me off."

"I do most things better than you. Papa." There is a serious bite in the way he says Papa. I know he doesn't like me as much as our older brother, but that still stings. I stare back into his eyes and hold my arms shoulder level to fan out the robe.

"Apparently no, brother mine, or I wouldn't be wearing this, would I?", I ask, seriously pushing it with the sarcasm.

"Or this?", I point to my Skull paint.

Mistake.

He sees the nails on the gloves. He looks at them for a time and looks back at my face.

"You don't deserve it.", he says coldly.

"And you do? Is that why I'm replacing you?", he's usually not this bad. The small of my back starts to sweat just barely. I don't need this right now.

"You don't deserve it because you are not made for it."

"You're just mad because you're bald and I have hair. Tale as old as ever.", I goad at him. He's seriously starting to piss me off, what is his problem today?

"You aren't worthy of this position. You don't deserve it. You are still a shit-ass, smart mouth kid and you are going to fail."

"Is that correct?" If this old fucker wants a fight I'll give him a fight. He has this shitty, lopsided grin on his face.

"Because, from where I'm standing", I motion to the robe again. "I'm not the failure here tonight." It's too late to go back now, so why not put the cherry on top?

"I am Papa. You are not. Sound familiar?"

"You are not Papa. Not yet. Not ever. You will never be a 'Papa'. You don't even have a Ritual written. How are you supposed to lead our congregation? You think you can ride my coat tails and breeze through this like you breeze through everything else?" His face is starting to get red. The last time that happened was not pretty.

"You aren't Papa until you tour, and that isn't going to happen because no one is going to take you seriously. Especially with those fucking things on your hands.", he points to my gloves.

"Don't bring the gloves into this."

"Always so sure of yourself, aren't you?"

"Here's the thing old man, I am sure. Just because I'm not dead inside like you doesn't mean I'm going to fail. It didn't do you any good, did it? You see," I take a step forward, "I am made for this. It is in my blood. I am a son of Father's just like you. I am an Emeritu-"

"Half!", he snarls. O has been standing behind me this whole time; keeping his eyes off to the side to keep from being sucked into it, but I feel him shift a little at this.

"You are only half Emeritus, brother mine."

"Have you been drinking?"

"Do you have any idea how hard I had to work for this? I was next in line, si, but that wasn't good enough for me. I wanted to be bigger. I wanted to be better. Monstrance Clock. Year Zero? Infestissumam! I did that! It was supposed to be me! All of this was supposed to be mine!" He taps his chest twice with his fingers and throws his arm towards the waiting faithful in the Sanctuary.

"Well, it's not now! You had a good run and did good work, I'll give you this, but it's over now. You're time has come and gone and you did not complete the task. I'm sorry it didn't work out like you had wished, but that is your fault, not mine."

"È colpa tua se mamma se n'è andata.", he says in a calm voice. And there it is.

"Partire. Adesso."

Luckily, as Senior Sister has come to lead him to the stage. He knew he had gone too far. He hadn't pulled something like that since we were young. There was a glimmer of regret in the eyes behind his sunglasses as he follows the Sister, but just before he walks out of the room he turns to look at me one more time and says, "Il mondo è in fiamme, fratello, e tu sei qui per restare e bruciare con me." Then he's gone.

I remove my Mitre and place it back on the mannequin head someone drew eyes on. It was me. I'm sweating and shaking. It's too fucking hot in here. I take my gloves off and place them on the vanity. This robe has to come off, now. I bend in half, grabbing the front hem I lift it up and over my head and tossed in the chair in one fluid motion. Oh, sweet Prince of Darkness, that's so much better. I am wearing nothing but my shoes, socks and sock suspenders or whatever they're called and my first Grucifix Father gave me. The chain broke a long time ago, so it's hanging from a piece of black twine. The symbol can't be bigger than a car key. I was maybe four or five when he gave it to me, and it was the perfect size. I lean forward and flatten my hands on the vanity table and stare hard at my Skull paint, then my eyes, and up to my jet black hair. Father's hair was dark when he was younger, but not black. My mother's hair was black. I am only half Emeritus.

"You okay, Pop?"

"Don't call me that."

"What did he say to you?" There is genuine concern in my friends voice.

"He said that he's not gay, but he would go down on you if you asked."

"Please don't say things like that when you are naked." This makes me laugh. Now there is mock pain in his voice. He puts up with a lot for me. I turn to face him, leaning back against the counter and crossing my ankles and folding my arms across my chest.

"He said I was the reason his mother is gone. Again.", I say shaking my head and glancing over at the discarded robe, "He is right though. I am only half Emeritus."

"And the other half?", he asks. "Why is it getting to you like this today? Any other day you would have been planning to just mail him a clown wig or something."

"He is correct. I do not deserve to be Papa. Him and my brother worked so hard for years to become Papa, even with succession. I never think that Father would let me be Papa. I am not prepared for this."

"So, that's it? Big brother says you can't do it so you get stress-naked and quit?", Omega asks as he walks towards me. Damn him.

"Yeah, I am stress-naked, but I am not going to quit."

"You probably should though. I mean, your older brother did kind of set the standard with Year Zero. Do you think you can honestly beat that?" He is still sauntering over to me. I know exactly what he's doing, too. Fucker.

"Yes, you ass, I think I can beat that honestly.", I sigh. He leers over me with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Then put the fucking robe back on."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No, as Papa I do not have to wear any robe." He shifts back onto his heels and nods slowly.

"So, what are you?"

"I am Papa."

"And what am I?"

"You are not.", I say with a snarl like the old man himself. There is laughter in my friends eyes, but not for long. The applause starts on the other side of the wall signifying he has finally finished talking. It gets even louder when the door is opened and the same Senior Sister slips into the room, I can only assume, to get me, but I am naked. Omega, until right now, was blocking her view of me with his body, but he pivots on his heel to look at our little church mouse. She sees Omega and smiles, but when her eyes finally find me her smile turns into confusion and then horror. She does not look away immediately, however. She is staring.

"Oh Satan..", she murmurs. I fan my arms out even with my shoulders.

"Sister!", I say a cheery as I possibly can. She claps her hand over her eyes as her face is set ablaze. "What can I do for you my Sister of Sin?"

"I'm, I, I'm ready for you. We're ready! for you, Papa. Whenever you are, Sir. I'm so- I'll just-", she's gone. Cut herself off with the door. I look over at O with a too big grin. He walks over to the chair and gathers my robe and brings it over to me.

"Whenever you're ready, Papa. Your flock awaits you."

"And rather eager to meet me, yes?" I get dressed and spread my arms in front of the mirror again. Ether stands behind, dusts off a nonexistent piece of lint and gives me one nod. I return it. There's no going back now, and I wouldn't want to if I had the chance.

"Time to shine-", I say as I follow him to the door.

"Like the Morning Star.", he replies.

 

I follow my band of Nameless up the steps and onto the stage. The faithful have not seen me like this before. Some have never seen me before at all, and this thought fuels me. They are just as unsure as I am, but I have to rectify that right here, right now or it will all be as my brother said. I refuse to ride that bald bastard's tails. I don't have a speech prepared so I will just have to make it up as I go along. I am handed my microphone and head to the center of the stage.

"Hello. How are you doing?"

Silence.

Fuck. That was too much..

I clear my throat and power forward not really knowing what it is I am saying. I thank some people, I make some jokes no one laughs at but their eyes never leave me. Not a single Ghoul or Sister have looked anywhere but me since I walked up here. I finish the stupid speech and the same Sister that saw me stress-naked scurries out to retrieve the microphone. I grab her hand before she can snatch it and run and kiss the back of it. Her eyes might actually come out of her face this time, so I wink and leave her standing there. Someone will come get her. The church members are alive in the pews, talking and laughing like they had just seen the best movie. I make my way down the aisle with my men behind me and the Junior Sisters are about to lose their heads over them. Sisters blush when I take their hand a smile at them, thanking them for having been here. The crowd must be getting louder somehow because it sounds like my ears are inside a soup can. It's getting louder the farther I walk, but I try to ignore it. I'm doing well with these people and I can't jeopardize that. I'm doing well with MY people. Now it feels like there is something inside my ear, pulling me left to the other side of the aisle like a weight. As I turn to follow it I see what most Papa's have only dreamed of seeing. A Junior Sister, is standing with her finger in her ear. Did she hear it too? This can't be right. I have certainly lost my head, but I feel myself prowling towards her. And by the look on her face she does not like the one on mine, but that is not important right now. I come to stand before her in silence. They are acting like I'm my brother. I can see a few Junior Sisters bowing their heads for no reason off to the side. Damn it, I'm losing them! But that doesn't seem to matter much right now either. She hasn't taken her eyes off me, she hasn't looked down or away from me. Is she scared of me already? Lucifer Morning-Star, those eyes. There is no fear in them.

"Sister.", I say, but it comes out a little too breathy and low. She is a devoted Sister because she finds herself, lowers her head and clasps her hands together.

"Papa Emeritus." She doesn't look up.

"Sister."

"Yes, Sir?" I have to see those eyes again.

"Would be so kind as to look at me, Sister?" I'm messing up my English because I'm so nervous. She looks up and ice pours through my veins. I clinch my teeth so my mouth doesn't fall open.

"What is it they call you, my Sister of Sin?" Why didn't I just ask her what he NAME was? Get a fucking grip Emeritus.

"You want my name?", she asks incredulously. Her voice is a little husky and deep, and I like it a lot.

"If you would be so kind, yes."

"MY name?" Am I speaking Italian and do not know it? She looks like she doesn't understand the question or the language and we've already attracted the attention of the entire church with this little show, so I know my tone is short.

"Your name, Sister, what is your name?" I am frightening her, but she is scaring me too. I can hardly make myself look into her eyes, but I can't make myself look away even more. Heterochromia isn't something you come across everyday. She had one light-blue eye and one rich, brown eye. This was not possible. Not under my rein. Fuck! Please let her have a name like Helen or Ashley, please Lucifer, if you can hear me right now let her be a Helen.

"My name is Cirice."

FUCK.

*****

I open the door to my chambers to let myself in and spin on my heel to slam it shut, but it bounces right back at me because someone has their foot in the door. They all file in lead by my Fire Ghoul. I'm already by the wet bar taking off the hat and gloves when the door clicks shut gently. It's hot in here.

"Will you be alright, Meri?", Fire asks. I spin around and take a deep breath in.

"Tutto apposto? Tutto apposto? il fuoco vuole sapere se starò bene. Hai visto quegli occhi? Hai sentito il suo nome? Cosa c'è di sbagliato in te? Perché sei così calmo? Perché è così fottutamente caldo qui!" I'm panting by the time I finish what I'm saying. Folding in half I grab the hem of the robe again planning to throw it off when an enormous hand seizes my wrist gently. My eyes follow the arm to the mask and I could swear I was looking into the eyes of Satan himself. It's Air, shaking his head slowly, and the temperature around us drops. He lets go of my hand and straightens; staring down at me until I straighten as well, he nods once and leaves me to find his place in the back of the office to lean on the built-in bookshelves. He's a mysterious bastard to say the least.

Silence.

Pointing to the door of my bed chamber Fire says, "Go change, Meri, we are not going anywhere." Time to regroup 'Papa'. This fucking robe has to go. I like the heat and summer time, but this is different. This is the heat of responsibility and stress. There's an old suit in my closet that I can wear, but it's pushing it given my scene in the Sanctuary. Eh, they can fuck it. I'm wearing the pants, undershirt and suspenders, but I am not wearing the jacket right now. No socks or shoes and the suspenders are just hanging there for now. I walk back into the office and am immediately handed a small, chilled bottle of white wine with a straw poking out of the neck. I look up at the Water Ghoul's hand it came from, but he's not looking at me. He's pouring the remainder of his water bottle down his throat. I run my free hand through my hair and shuffle behind the desk into the too big, too soft chair, flop down and throw my feet on the top. They are all looking at me expectantly; Water is in the chair in the corner of a small sitting area across from my new desk, Earth is on the couch across from that, Fire is sitting on the edge of my desk, Air is by the bookshelves and Ether is leaning on the bar. All eyes on me.

"You wanna talk about what happened out there?", Ether asks gently.

"Did you see the girl out there?"

"The one you grilled about her name? Yeah, man, we saw her.", Earth says, perpetually spinning a drumstick in his hand.

"And her name was Circie." I am baffled at how calm they are about this whole thing.

"Aaand she's been here for weeks Meri. Why are you freaking out about it now?"

"Because I'm just now finding out now, that's why now!" They all exchange looks of concern or confusion or both. What the actual fuck was going on?

"You didn't know she was here?", Ether says in almost a whisper and I just widen my eyes at him. What did he think that I knew about her this whole time and just wanted to play it up for the people? They all look at each other again as if not sure what to do now.

"How could I have possibly know she was here? It was starting to become more legend than prophecy that the girl was even real. Or could be real." I take a sip of wine through the straw and it tastes like the perfect sin: cool, crisp, sweet, Italian. I'm starting to wander  off in my thoughts as to what to do when Fire turns around on my desk to face me and says,

"Your brother told us she was here two months ago. We thought he told you, too." Of course he did. And of course he didn't tell me. That was what all that bullshit backstage earlier was about. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, drinking deep. After a few moments, I open my eyes again and none of them are looking at me. They are looking anywhere but me because they are waiting for me to explode like I normally would. Not today, though. This is too important to waste energy being mad at that bald ass hat. I have to talk to this girl.

"So, what do we do now?", I ask. They exchange another look of bewilderment.

"Whatever it is 'Papa' sees fit. We are here to help you all the way, as much as we can, but we cannot do it for you. You are Papa. We are not. But whatever it is you choose you might want to do it fast. You kinda scared the shit out of her earlier." If there is anyone that can snap me out of my panic it's Air, and he does it without fail every time. "You are in charge now. This is your decision." I throw my feet off the desk and put my elbows down, threading my fingers together in front of me and look into my palms.

"I need to talk with her."

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Cirice

Chapter 3  
I'm just sitting on the edge of my bed brushing the ends of my hair for no reason staring at the wall. When people say they feel electric or feel electricity between themselves and another person, they obviously have no fucking idea what they are talking about. What I felt could have been measured in joules. I'm tired now because of it. After I told him my name I swear to Lucifer Morning-Star, Beelzebub and all of Pandemonium that his white eye got brighter. Just a little. Just enough to distract me and my thoughts. It wasn't possible though, surely. Eyes are not bio luminescent. I have heterochromia and that's weird enough, but my eye doesn't glow when I'm upset or happy or whatever it was he was feeling at the time. There is no way it brightened, but it did. Hell Almighty, what have I gotten myself into? Why didn't I join another Satanic church? Why did I choose this one? Momma and Dad went to a much more low-key church in our old neighborhood. The Papa there was much more subdued and orthodox in method and manner. It would be a calm and orderly environment to study and worship the Unholy Master, but that's not what I want. I don't want calm and orderly; I want mix matched eyes and face paint and the feeling of euphoric electricity coursing through my veins. He is dangerous. Papa is dangerous. My heart does a little pitter-patter at the remembrance of it. I drop the brush to my lap and flop back onto my bed and scoot up to put my head on the pillows. I feel like I could fall asleep immediately if I closed my eyes and at the same time like I don't need to sleep for a week, but I close my eyes anyway.

I am rudely awakened by someone hammering on my door with sharp blows. I nearly hit the ceiling. I look over at my roommates half of the room and she's gone. I'm not expecting anyone, so she must have forgotten her key. Rolling off the bed with a groan I pad barefoot over to the door shouting,  
"You don't have to beat down the door like there's a fire, Elizabeth! I'm right here!" as I wrench open the door. I let out a dumbass honky laugh at the fact that it is not Elizabeth, but indeed is a fire. It's Mr. Fire from Papa Emeritus' private ring of Nameless. This will forever be my best pun.  
"Miss Sister."  
"Mr. Fire."  
"Papa sent me to come get you. He wants to talk to you."  
"Oh, no thanks." He very subtly tilts his head to the right, totally thrown and completely confused.  
"What? No, he needs to talk to you. It's very inpor- imper-?", he trails off trying to find the word important. He's still learning. Sorry, Hottie, I'm not gonna help you. He scowls at the floor for a second and gives up.  
"You have to."  
"Why? I was wearing a shirt AND a blanket. I don't even know why he was in this building in the first place. If he saw anything it's because he was looking for it. And, and, HE, wasn't even wearing his hat so.." He's confused again. While I have him stunned with my psycho babble I take a step back and slowly try to close the door, but he takes a step forward and stops it with his foot.

Damn.

"I'm sorry Miss Sister, I cannot go back without you. It is very important." Atta boy. "Don't make me carry you to him." The look in his eyes says he's dead serious and won't think twice about throwing me over his shoulder and packing me away.  
"Fine. Let me get my sho-" I am barely finished with my sentence before he is in my room, locates my shoes and is pointing to the edge of the bed in a silent command to sit. I sit down and reach for the shoes in his hands, but he holds them out of my grasp and kneels in front of me. He places his hand on the back of my calf and lifts so that my foot sets on top of his thigh and proceeds to loosen the laces on my Chucks. Oh Satan, devour us all. He's going to put my shoes on for me. This is absurd. I attempt to lift my foot away, but he seizes my ankle and firmly places it back on his leg. The horns on his mask begin to glow red on the very tips. Unholy shit. I glance from his horns to his eyes then follow his line of vision straight up my dress. When I return my attention back to his horns they are entirely red. Is he-? Am I making him-? There's only one way to check. I shift my free leg off to the side a little, then a little more and just a smidge beyond that before his horns are glowing orange and the amount of heat this kid is producing is phenomenal. He still hasn't taken his eyes off my lady parts. I sneak my fingers to curl under the hem of my dress on the side of my thighs and slowly pull it up maybe an inch. He actually leans forward. It's minimally, but he still does it. His breathing has changed. This is very interesting. With his eyes locked on the target I begin to move my foot northbound on his scorching leg. How far is this going to go? When is this ghoul gonna snap out of it? He must feel the pressure of my foot nearly on his boy bits because he tightens his grip on my ankle immediately and flashes his eyes up to meet mine. Oh. My. Hell. His horns are glowing yellow at the tips. He's-. Yes, he is. The look in his eyes makes me squirm a little and his grip on my leg constricts at the movement. We're just staring at each other. I dart my eyes back up to his mask and the horns are glowing a soft red again.

He wastes no time in stuffing my shoes on my feet with surprising grace and speed. Then he's standing over me, hot hands on my skirt. He keeps looking into my eyes as his fingers pinch the hem of my skirt and tug it sharply back down that one racy inch. My face has to be on fire. I am so busted. He's totally busted too, though. He walks over to the still open door and holds his hand out to me, beckoning me. I stand up and sleepishly smooth my dress down to its original length, about three inches about my knees. The Elder Sisters here will check it with a ruler, a ruler that has a taste for the back of your thighs if your skirt isn't short enough. I bypass his proffered hand, slip past him and out the door. He follows. I've snagged my key to lock the door and a shadow consumes the light I needed to see the keyhole. Wondering if a light went out I almost turn my face up and to the left when his face is what I turn into. He smells like fire. And it's intoxicating. He gets close enough that the pointy chin on his mask touches my shoulder.  
"You shouldn't play with fire, Miss Sister.", is hissed in my ear so sinfully smooth and breathy the air is partially sucked from my body. The temperature of his front nearly touching my back feels like I'm getting sunburned.

Then it's cold.

I turn to look behind me and he is already walking away, looking fucking fantastic in his uniform. I lock my lock and scamper down the hall to catch up with his long stride. He leads the way at a quick pace given that he probably should have retuned with me a few minutes ago already.

When we get to Papa Emeritus' office door, Fire puts his hand on the doorknob, turns to me and searches my face for a few moments. It's like he doesn't understand what he's looking at. It's probably my eyes. It's always my eyes. He should be used to seeing mix n' match eyes by now though. He opens the door and waves me in past him. I square my shoulders and lift my chin in preparation for being thrown out of the Congregation.

Super.

What am I gonna tell Momma and Dad? The High-Priest caught me in the hall half naked and staring at him? Maybe I should start off with how Papa Emeritus' eye glows when his emotions surge? Or maybe the best ice breaker would telling them how I dropped out of college to be kicked out of The Sister's of Sin Convent.

When I walk in I want to walk right back out. Not only is Papa Emeritus wearing people clothes, but the entire band of Nameless are sitting around the room. They all stop what they're doing and look up at me. The office has a Den area off to the left. It has three boojie leather chairs facing a large and equally boojie couch. The office has high ceilings to accommodate the monstrous stained glass window depicting Lucifer Morning-Star dancing in Pandemonium with a mortal female, both nude, called Helvetesfönster. The flames almost seem to be dancing with them. Reds, oranges, yellows, gold, crimsons, pinks, black all dancing and moving in tandem as the afternoon light courses though, bathing the room in blood. On each side of the stained glass is a traditional glass window to counteract the red-out and allow people to actually see. Those windows have heavy, plum colored velvet curtains that are currently pulled back. I've never been in Papa's office before. As soon as you walk in you see a closet door on your right followed by a hallway that leads to the living quarters followed by the office bathroom. The Wall of Windows is straight ahead of me, facing east so that Papa's may rise with the Morning-Star. To the right of the windows is a wet bar. To my immediate right is Papa's desk on the west wall facing the Wall of Windows with two chairs facing the desk. The north most wall is made entirely of bookshelves full to bursting. And if you follow the north wall it ends with the Den. A Den of Ghouls. All staring at me. All waiting to see me get fired as a Sister for streaking through the halls. The couch is backed to the bookshelves and faces the south wall and chairs. The chairs and couch are separated by a coffee table. Air is in the corner by the bookshelves. Water is in the farthest chair. Earth is in the middle chair. Ether is leaning on the bar. Fire walks over to the couch and flops down. Papa is, oh my. Papa is sitting behind his desk in black slacks and a white V-neck undershirt. No sleeves, no gloves, no shoes, no socks. The suspenders hang from the waist of his pants.

I think I'm going to faint.

He has his bare feet propped up on his desk, ankles crossed, with a tiny bottle of wine in his lap with a bendy straw sticking out of the neck. Obviously having been lost in thought, he lurches from his chair, accidentally slams his wine bottle down making some spits out of the top onto a few papers as his chair rolls into the wall with a crash. Now he's standing and I can take in all of his beauty in real-time. Why is he dressed like this? You never see a Papa out of robes like this unless you are a Sister helping dress Papa in his robes. No socks, no shoes, no gloves, no sleeves. No problem. Well, the problem is that the church doesn't see Papa's out of uniform of any kind so I must no longer be a member of the church. That's okay. As long as I get to see this it's fine. Papa Emeritus holds out his hand and motions to a chair facing his desk. I obey and sit as directed. He sits down in his chair again, flexes his fingers and places his hand palm down on the desk before him. He looks from side to side then back down at the desk. He's nervous. Well shit, I would be too if I had only been Papa for a few hours before having to dismiss a Sister.

"Do you know why I have asked for you, Sister?"

"I have a pretty good idea why, Papa Emeritus."

"Tell this idea to me." The old man wanted me to say it out loud. He knew. I knew. We both knew that the other knew, but he wanted me to say it. Fine by me. Might as well go out with a bang, right?

"I was wondering the dormitory halls after curfew wearing nothing but a large t-shirt and a blanket and Papa Emeritus the Second saw me." His brow furrows and I can hear the leather creak from the Ghouls shifting in their seats behind me. Yeah, old man, I said what I said. Half naked.

"What does this mean? You were-" He's looking for the best way to put 'naked from the waist down', but only makes strange noises and hold his hand, flat, in the air and quickly lowers it while shaking his head.

"No! Oh my god, no. I, well, no I wasn't technically wearing anything, but the shirt was really long and the blanket.. was there too..", I trail off. "Anything Papa saw, he was looking for. I'm just saying." I hold my hands in surrender. He's gaping at me. Yep, this is me Pops. Good old Miss Sister Cirice. EX Miss Sister Cirice, I guess. I keep waiting for him to say something, but the silence has taken it's toll.

"It's okay, Papa Emeritus, I'll just go. I understand you can't have errant sisters running the halls without their underwear. What would people think?", I say, laying the sarcasm on pretty thick for that last bit as I stand to leave. I've barely made it to my feet fully before he uses a voice octave I have yet to hear today.

"Sit.", is the only thing he says. It's deep and creamy smooth and firm and hits me right in my lady bits. Woof! I'm starting to think it's best I get the fuck out of this church while I still have my dignity and stockings intact. I slip back into my seat and chew at my bottom lip.

"I ask why I must see you and you say it is because my brother saw you in the hallway with small clothes on and a blanket and you think I will send you away for this?"

"I was almost positive of it, Sir, until just a moment ago."

"Why do you think this way?"

"Well, because I wasn't alseep in my room like I should have been? I'm sorry, I'm not sure exactly what you're wanting, Your Dark Excellence. Three months ago I couldn't sleep because of a thunderstorm and I wanted to look at it though the window. I didn't have anything else on but a shirt and a blanket. I ran into your bro- Papa Emeritus the Second and he looked very.. displeased." I don't understand what's happening here. He doesn't seem to know either.

"No, no.", he says shaking his head. He leans back into his chair and runs his hand through his hair with a sigh. "Sister Cirice, I will ask you this once more, yes? And you will tell your Papa the truth?"

I nod.

"Why are you here?"

"Forgive me, but I already have. That is the only reason I believe you have called on me. I haven't broken any other rules before or since." He nobs just barely and runs his hand through his hair again.

"I believe it is I that is in need of forgiving. I have not gone about this in the correct way. You see, there is a prophecy that tells of a woman that is to take the church to greater heights. She assists the Papa in Robe with the Ritual and material for the Ritual. The prophecy is older than the church itself, it is said. This woman is to serve with Papa as she can in order to fulfill this foretelling, yes? You have heard this?" I nod. It was a silly story they told at Black Mass to keep the kiddies entertained. "The leader of the church at the time of this woman's appearance is to be the most favored. He will amass an empire the church has yet to see. The story tell that this woman was hand selected by the Prince of Darkness himself to accompany Papa to glory. There has been as few of Papa's that think they are the chosen Papa, but they are not. It is said to be a son of Emeritus that is to complete the set task. You hear this too?" He leans forward and take the wine bottle in his hand as he leans back in his chair again; drinking, he waits for me to respond. I'm confused and floored. Was he telling me he was a superior Papa? Or at least thought he was? My answer comes out breathier than I would have liked.

"No Sir, I haven't heard that."

"I believe, and this is just a, uh, shooting in the darks perhaps, that I might be that Emeritus. Do you wish to know why I think this?"

I nod. He takes a sip from his straw and it is so adorable that he's drinking wine straight from the bottle with a straw that I smile a little.

"Sister.", his tone is hard. Heck. "This is not a funny thing I am telling you. Do you know the reason I think I am the Papa foretold in this prophecy?"

"No, Sir."

"You." My lips twitch at this. I am the magical legend woman from a millinium ago. Sounds about right. I don't want to say anything or make any kind of face to upset him, but he's looking at me so expectantly.

"Me, Papa Emeritus? I'm the reason?" Bullshit. There is no way I am anything more than what I am right here right now. And there is absolutly no way I am hand picked by the Devil, for the Devil. He is mistaken.

"Yes, mia bella. You. The story speaks of this girl as being a refelction of the church as well as it's reining Papa. You do both." He motions to his white eye and my blue eye with the neck of his wine bottle. "Do you know what your name means?"

"My name? I think my mom told me it means cherry in French."

"It also means Church in Old English. Sister, you were born to do straordinario things. There is no way to convince you of all of this I am afraid. You will have to put trust in me, yes? I will have to do the same."

"So what does this woman in the prophecy do exactly?"

"She stands by Papa and aids him in completeing his task. This means I will need you to move into my living quarters here. I have a few empty bed chambers you could choose from. I will need you by my side at all times. You are a once in a eon kind of chance for greatness the likes of this world has not yet seen. You can continue your studies as normal, but when you are not needed elsewhere you will be here with me. If you are not with me you will be accompanied by one of my Nameless. Yes?"

I don't think my eyes could have gotten any bigger. He has lost his demonic mind. He wants me as a pet! None of what he said sounded even remotely like assistant type work that only Senior Sisters were sometimes called on to do. Oh, fuck no. No no no no noooo. I chose to follow the dark path because it virtually eliminated the agressive, controling Patriarch. I was not about to be someones little.. whatever it is I would be.

"No." The air around us cools off a couple noticable degrees. I don't know if I'm having a stroke or if it's Mr. Air trying to keep us from getting heat-hateful.

"I apologize, Sister, but it was not a request as much as making sure you understand. This is not something you can throw away or ignore. You are more than you think you are. You are too precious to leave alone, Sister Cirice. You will be in the company of the Men I trust above all others. This is not a question. There are those who will try to sabatoge our task. Other churches that try to lead our Faithful astray. This is the gift you were given when you were born into this world. Do you understand these things I say to you?"

"No."

"No? No, what Sister? This is not a no. There is no no in this. Do you understand the things I am telling to you? My words, Sister."

"Yes, Papa Emeritus, I understand words." He's pissing me off. No means no. I don't want to be his pet. He's hot and beautiful and dangerous and powerful and his hair is out of this fucking world, but I will not be his, or anyone elses, pet. I feel a little better knowing I am pissing him off too by the look in his mix-matched eyes. One green, one white. He takes a steadying breath and I stare right through him. Bring it bitch, I'm not afraid of you.

"You see, Cirice, you do not understand your power. You are other worldly. You, and you alone, are the most powerful being in this room. The prophecy states that a daughter of Eve is to lead man to a new generation of lives. You, Cirice, are the only one capable of initiating this movement of change. You do not have a choice. You are doing this. We can discuss the finer details later. You cannot let this opportunity slip past and I will not let you. Do you understand those words?" I stand. I'm done listening to this crazy old man try to con me into being his chamber maid.

"I understand, Your Dark Excellence. Perhaps you are the one that does not understand me." I have a disgusted smile on my face and I can feel it. "You see, I follow Lucifer Morning-Star because I will not be ruled over by men. I don't care if you are Papa or not, you will not own me. I will not be your little pet or chamber maid you can bed as you see fit. Do you understand those words?" His neck is turning pink as well as the area around his hairline that is void of paint. His jaw is tight and his breathing has deepened.

"Do not presume that I am unaware of what this church and congregation stand for. I do not wish to rule over you like a son of Adam. I am a son of Emeritus. I lead, I do not rule. I believe you have used all of my patience with your disrespect. Your assumptions of me are insulting to say the least. It is not me-. It is not I-. I am not the one that is to truly lead this new Era. It is you, Sister, and I am beginning to dread this time we must spend together if this is how you will be acting like. I am informing you of the enormous power you possess to change the world! This is not a randy old man's attempt at getting sex with a young, pretty Sister! You were born for this!" He points at the Wall of Windows. "You are a messanger for the Dark Lord. Do not doubt me when I tell you you will be doing this. I will not let this opportunity pass us by."

"Stop it! Have you lost your mind? You are talking about an old story, a nursery rhyme! I am not the one to solve the world. I am not powerful. I was not born for greatness. I am a simple Sister of Sin. Do you think you can pawn your responsibilities off on a Sister so if you fail you can just blame her? Are you that afraid of living up to your brother's legacy?" He take a quick inhale to interrupt me, but I beat him to it. "You stand here and tell me that you wish to call on me, yes? For what? These clandestine powers you are so sure I have? You want me to move in with you, right here, right now. You want me sleeping in the room next to you so you can impose whenever you like? And how long would this go on? Until they hammer my coffin shut? Just so you can pretend to be the choosen one to fulfill 'The Prophecy'?" I'm breathing hard now too. I lean forward and place my palms flat on the desk. As I open my mouth and seeth, "Fuck You!", a gust of wind tears through the office blowing my hair forward and taking papers off the desk with it.

Holy shit fuck.

His eye.

It did it again.

It shone.

I straighten up immediately in complete shock an awe. He looks just as scared as I feel. I wheel around to see if a window was opened or if Mr. Air was responsible, but what I see is much more unsettling.

Mr. Fire's left horn has a small wisp of smoke wafting up from it.

Mr. Water is blinking at the water all over his face from the water bottle he has in his hand.

Mr. Ether is slowly sinking onto a barstool looking exhausted.

Mr. Earth is gazing down at his drumstick that is nearly, and spontaniously, broken in half.

I don't see Mr. Air.

I'm having stroke. That's the only explaination. I turn back towards Papa and he meets my eyes having been looking around at the damage as well. We're both out of breath. What the fuck just happened?

"Papa-"

"Did my eye do it as well?", he asks, cutting me off.

"Yes." I nod slowly. My eye changed with his?! What the actual fuck was happening to me? To us? When I speak it is barely above a whisper. "What have you done to me, Papa?" He gently shakes his head.

"I did nothing, Sister Cirice. That was you and your gift. I realize I went about this a bad way, but do you believe me now?", he asks quietly. I think I'm going to throw up. I am NOT special. There is NOTHING special about me, and this man shows me that I am more than the world has ever seen. Holy crap. I think I'm going to throw up. I'm still nearly whispering.

"What am I?" I am near tears from exhaustion, fear, stress, worry, confusion and the emince amount of responsibility and pressure I feel.

"You're a Witch!!", yells Mr. Earth. It's loud enough to make us all jump and when I turn around he is pointing at me with his snapped drumstick.

"No, I'm not!", I say with little conviction. I look back to Papa for reassurance, but he is looking off to his left at the bookshelves.

"You aren't a Witch.", Mr. Ether says from the bar. He doesn't sound as tired as he looked just a few moments ago. He stands and adjusts his mask. "You, Sister, are on a completely different level." I turn back to Papa to confirm that I am not a Witch, but he is franticly searching for something on his desk. He finds it. A pen? What the fuck is so important he needs to write it down right now? He reaches out blindly for a piece of paper and falls into his chair scribbling like a mad man. The sun has set more than I thought and the office has taken on an ominous oxblood hue.

He doesn't look up. He doesn't seem to know that I am even here. That anyone is here for that matter. I have questions Papa, I need your help!

"Papa Emeritus?"

"Alpha and Omega will move your things into your new room."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He named this one Square Hammer


	4. Omega

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't read in front of your folks.

This girl had A LOT of fucking books. That was all she had really. Some pillows, the habits and veils and shit, some people clothes and school stuff, but that was it. And, like, three boxes of microwave popcorn. Ali flaked on us and said he had to get the room she was to move into clean. He just didn't want to carry anything.

I set the last box on the dresser in her room in Pops' quarters. This place was filthy. I made a mental note to make Ali wish he had never been spat from Hell for this. Goddamn, it was hot in this mask! Sometimes I really, really regret going with this style. I want to take it off, but in accordance with me getting my second chance no mortal can see my fucking face. Blah blah blah. But I can see hers.

She tied her hair back in a single braid when we started moving things and it was kinda frizzy now. She has some acne on her left cheek and chin, but she hasn't tried to cover it up with make-up. She isn't wearing make-up at all. That's odd. Even the girls that say they hate it still wear some of it. Her cheeks are pink from the stairs and carrying books and books. She's sitting on the edge of her new bed that is currently still just a bare mattress, chewing her lip and looking around. The bed frame makes the bed set high enough that her feet don't touch, so she's swinging them.

The Sister's have a pretty strict dress code and will get the ruler if they don't adhere. They have to wear these sheer, black thigh-highs and that belt thing with the little clips on it to hold them up, and it is the hardest thing I have ever had to do to not run my finger across one of those little straps peeking out from under her dress. It's contributing to the sweating I'm sure of it. And while most Sister's, especially the Juniors, wear some kinda girly style shoes, like heels, with their uniform, this girl has on a pair of solid black Chuck Taylor's. She's not "skinny" either. She has a little tummy like I do and I have never been so turned on by that. Maybe it's because she's not trying to hide it? To say her thighs are enticing would be an understatement.

Thigh-highs, books, sneakers, tummy, acne, crazy hair.

She's fucking perfect.

"Are you okay, Mr. Ether?" She pulls me out of my inventory with her slightly husky voice. I guess we'll just add that to the list as well.

"Yes, of course. Why?"

"Earlier, when I said fuck you to Papa Emeritus, you looked really tired and I'm pretty sure it was because of me."

"A little bit you, yeah, but I'm okay." I take it she hears the smile in my voice because she seems to relax a little.

"I'm so, so sorry for all of that. I didn't mean to. I didn't even know I could yell a drumstick in half, I swear.", she says genuinely. Wow, she really feels bad about this. She shouldn't.

"Hey, no no no. You don't be sorry. How could you have possibly known?" She takes a deep inhale and blinks a slow blink, relaxing. Good girl.

"Are you doing this?", she asks. I nod. "Do you do it a lot?" No. "Okay."

I haven't made someone calm down in a long time. Not even Meri. Ether's are more dangerous than Fire's. We have to be housed separately as adolescents so we don't blow up the universe. Especially when we're still learning.

"Is there anything else you can think of before I have to go?" I have to shower and get a new uniform on for this fucking dinner/banquet thing for Pops tonight. I have to sit up at the front of the entire church like it's the last supper and eat in front of people.

"You're leaving?" She's chewing on her lip again. She doesn't want to be alone. Of course not, look at the afternoon she's had.

"I have to get ready for that dinner thing for Pops tonight."

"Oh yeah, I completely forgot about that. I really don't want to go. I'm so tired.", she sighs and props her elbow on the footboard and rests her cheek in her palm.

"I know, babe, but we gotta. Come on, up with you before you fall asleep." I walk over to her and hold my hand out to pull her up off the bed, but when she take it she throws herself backwards on the bed.

"But I don't want to!", she whines. This makes me laugh. She's going to be good for Pops. I take her hand and pull it over my shoulder, bend my knees and pull her up to where her stomach is even with my shoulder and staighten my legs, lifting her with me. She grunts when I have to situate her a bit into a new possition to keep her from falling.

"Where's your bathroom?" I probably should have thought of that before I hoisted her up here. I'm probably hurting her ribs. I feel her shrug. Of course she doesn't. She hasn't been in this part of the church anymore than I have. Well, I guess we'll just have to find it together. I go to the first door I see in her room. Closet. Then the next. Closet. Why are there two closets in here? I close the door and make my way out into the hall. She hasn't objected to my carrying her like this once. She hasn't said anything at all. I turn right to go further into the living quarters, checking doors as I go. What kind of place is this? Where's the bathroom in this labarinth? It's just a bunch of rooms and no bathroom.

When I reach the end of the hall and the last not-bathroom room, I turn around and hear a sound that makes my stomach drop.

It's her head.

Hitting the wall.

And a small, tired, "Ow..".

I broke her. FUCK. I walk quickly towards the bathroom I know is in the office. As we are even with her room she tugs at the back of my suit.

"There's one." I look in the direction I felt her tugging and what do you know, there's a bathroom one door to the left and across the hall from her room. Of course. Only after I give her brain damage do I find it. I rush in and set her on the counter as gently as I can. She looks okay for the most part, but I grab her face and turn it left and then right looking for a red mark or bruise or something anyway. She starts giggling. Her face is still in my hand so I turn it so she has to look at me.

"What about this could possibly be funny, Sister?" She just has a sleepy smile on her face and shrugs again. I shake my head and drop my hand from her face and she reaches out and takes the Grucifix hanging from my neck in her hand. I freeze where I am.

What is she doing?

What is she thinking?

Does she want it?

Am I allowed to take it off even if she does?

She holds it in the palm of her hand and bounces it a little.

"This is heavy. I didn't think it would be this heavy." She lets it fall back to my chest. The poor thing really is tired. I wonder if there is anyway I can get her out of this dinner thing, but I know there isn't. She puts her hand in my chest and pushes me backwards away from her and the sink and hops down. There is light coming from the window over the bath rub, but not enough to see in the mirror very well. I find the light switch and watch as Cirice scrunches her eyes shut from the sudden burst of light.

"Are you going to be okay? How's your head? Do you feel like you're going to throw up? Where does it hurt?" She has covered her eyes with her hands and snickers again.

"My head is fine, thanks, but my eyes are probably melted now. I can take some asprin later, it's no big deal.", as she escorts me, with another palm to my chest pushing me bakwards, out the bathroom door. "Thanks for the lift, Mr. Ether. I had a great time. I'll call you?", she quips as she slams the door shut in my face. There is a laugh coming from the other side of the door, so I assume she's not actually door-slamming mad and is just playing with me. What a little shit.

I turn to walk down the hall towards the office and who is walking in my direction? A certian lazy Ghoul that doesn't know how to clean a room apparently. As we get closer, neither of us move to the side to let the other pass. If it's a game of chicken he wants it's a game of chicken he will get. He's still too far away when he starts running his mouth, though.

"Damn Meg, you smell terrible! What have you been doing, moving books?"

But books comes out as more of a grunt because I've launched him backwards by planting my right foot behind me and lowering my shoulder even with his stomach and throwing him. I kinda knocked the breath out of him, but he deserves it.

"Man, if I throw up because of this, it will be in your bed.", he calls out as I continue to walk down the hall.

"Then I guess I will have to bury you alive. Wait, what are you even doing here now? The fun's over." He just shrugs.

"Looking for you." Satan, help me from stangling this kid tonight?

"Well, get out of here, she's taking a shower and probably doesn't want any of us to be hovering in the hall when she gets out. Come on." He's holding his stomach still and turns his head towards the bathroom door. He bends in half and levels his eye with the key hole. Son of a bitch. He straights up at the sound of my quick stride towards him and holds up his hands.

"I am kidding. Calm down.", and starts walking out of the office with me. "Hang on.", he says as we just cross the threshold of the office door out into the main hall. I am immediatly blinded by my own mask. What the fuck? Ali has slapped my head and bolted as revenge for gut punching him. He knows I hate having my mask fucked with.

"Fucking stop!", I yell, but he's too fast for me to catch up to him now. I stop where I am and reposistion my face. Asshole.

***

Pops is stress-naked again.

"I'm not always going to be here to dress you when you're having a crisis, so just put the fucking suit on." I would be stressed too, but he's got to keep it together for this last ceremonial event of the day and then he can fall apart. He thinks that because he found out about Cirice today that the entire congregation has to as well. I'm trying to convince him that they can wait; that he needs to get his head on straight and get settled in before he even starts thinking of bringing the church's attention to this. He is so worried that he's going to lose them. He fears they will not accept him fully because he is not fully Emeritus, but I have never seen them so enamoured over a new Papa before him. He just needs to take a breather. "Get. Up.", I tell him. Surprisingly, he does. Thank Lucifer.

He gets dress without another word. This is unsettling. He's usually a chatter box, esspecially when he's nervous. I'm not going to push it by asking any questions. I'm going to leave him to it. There is the best couch in the world in his office, just outside his bed chamber, and I make my way to it and flop down. The leather is cool and it's soft and just the perfect kind of couch. Thinking Pops is probably going to be a little while, I throw my feet over the armrest, careful not to let my shoes touch it. When Cirice asked if I was alright I couldn't tell her that her little outburst completely drained me and I nearly passed out from the sudden flood chemical. Or lack thereof. I'm shocked we aren't a pile of ashes with Fire being in the room too. So, it was a bad choice on my part to close my eyes. I woke up with Meri standing over me with a camera poised about ten inches from my face.

"Buongiorno bellezza."

I'm blind. Mother fucker had the fucking flash on.

"What the fuck! is wrong with you?"

"Get up, Meggido! Papa needs an escort for dinner!", he yells. Jesus H. I'm right here, why is he yelling? When I am no longer seeing spots I can see that everyone is here and ready to go. This may be the first time they are the ones telling me to hurry. I stand up, stretch, reorder my uniform and fall in line behind Alpha and in front of Pop.

Let's do this fucking thing.

***

This is just as dumb as I knew it would be. We are just eating around each other. I'm not hungry anyway. I just want to go my apartment, take another shower because it's hot in here, jerk off to the thought of taking Sister Cirice's thigh-highs off with my teeth and fall into bed.

The Fellowship Hall is the largest room on the property. It can fit every Clergyman, Sister, Ghoul and other in it comfortably. And when I say confortably, I mean that everyone gets a seat at a cheap, round folding table. It's not comfortable in here.

There is a platform at the front of the Hall where us Nameless and Papa are placed. I saw Ali wonder off with a Senior Sister a few minutes ago and Meri has been floating around the sea of people he is now in charge of leading. He is doing really well. When he first entered in a black and white suit there was some hesitation on whether it was on purpose or if something happened to his robe or if there was an emergency and he was called elsewhere. The suit was, by Papal Law bullshit, much too casual for such an event. But when he apporached the end of the platform and asked how everyone was doing and if they liked his suit the crowd roared in acceptance of it. He thinks it will be Cirice only that begins this massive change but, without him, we wouldn't be going anywhere. This awkward, Italian social-butterfly was going to do great things, he just had to get out of his own head. He wasn't his brother, but he kept comparing himself to him and his accomplishments. He doesn't understand that it is because he is not like his brother that he was chosen for this journey. One day he will see this. But right now I have to get out of here.

Alpha was gone, Pop was gone, Air was at the other end of the table already writing synth music to the lyrics Pop had scratched down earlier. The man was passionate if nothing else. Water was still talking to Earth, who had stopped listening, about acid rain. It was his main topic for now. We were going to hear a lot about acid rain for the next few weeks. Earth, who probably was never listening to begin with or, more likely, couldn't hear Water, was drumming on the table with his fingers, as usual. When Cirice snapped his favorite stick it hit him a little hard and he looked lost without it. Even if he wasn't drumming with it he would just spin it around. Poor kid needed something. That little fucker couldn't sit still to save his life. Which is fine. We all accepted each other for our individual afflictions. We let Earth drum, we didn't make Air talk, we let Water talk all the time, we didn't tell Ali to settle down and they didn't give me any grief about how many showers I would take in a day or constantly adjusting my uniform. Thinking about fixing my uniform made me need to fix it, but also gave me an excuse to stand up.

No one notices that I've stood up, but I notice Cirice slip outside through one of the french doors that lead out to the Prayer Garden. My rings click on my mask as I reposition it and seem to echo in my head. Time to shine Meg.

I wade my way thought the flock an am greeted with cool air once outside. There are more people out here than I thought there would be. Fuck. I wanted to find Cirice, but it's dark out now and everyone is dressed in black, barely illuminated by the moon and a few lit fire pits around the garden. I'm never going to find her, but it can't hurt to cool off while I'm out here.

It's nice to not be recognized as Mr. Ether or Omega in the dark like this. Out here, right now, I'm just another Nameless Ghoul. I walk around this fire pit and that fire pit looking for her, but not hoping to see her until I nearly pass her. She's sitting on top of a picnic table under the Tree of Knowledge with her feet propped up on the seat, elbows on her knees, face in her hands.

Alone.

Fuck. Yes.

I walk over and sit next to her so when she has to turn her head to talk to me the fire to my left with light up her face.

"How is your head?"

"Who are you?" She opens her haunting eyes too wide in mock horror. I laugh and shake my head. She's funny. "I took some asprin, Mr. Ether, I think I'm going to live."

"Please don't call me Mr. I'm either Ether or Omega to you now. We will be spending to much time together to stand on ceremony like that. Plus, it makes me feel old."

"Old? How old are you?"

"It's not very lady-like to ask a mans age, Sister. I'm not telling you."

Her laugh.

It's more like a weeze, but it's so genuine.

"Well, it's nice to meet you Just-Ether. No matter how old you are. I'm Just-Cirice." She holds out her hand to me. It's so small compared to mine. I take her hand as gingerly as I can without insulting her. I've already shortened her long term memory today, I don't want to break her hand too.

Unholy Hell. Her hands are so soft. And warm. Why didn't I notice that earlier?

I am a weak man. Her tiny, soft, hot hands send a streak of fire though my blood. I want her tiny hands fisted in my hair. I want to fuck those hands. I want to gently suck on her fingers until she's begging for my mouth all over her body. Down boy. You can't do that. She's sacred ground. But I can think about it all I want.

It's like she's reading my mind because, in slow motion, she takes my hand from hers and lifts it to her mouth and runs her tongue across the pad of my thumb as casual as could be.

HOLY FUCK. Be cool Meg, be cool. The look on her face now is absolute horror. She drops my hand like it was coal hot.

"I am so sorry.", she says slowly. She looks around, obviously in shock over her own actions. This is a now or never kind of situation I have found myself in, and it's now.

I stand up with my feet on the seat of the picnic bench and take a step up onto the top of the table where Cirice is sitting. She is watching me wide eyed. I lower myself behind her and sit to where my legs are on the outside of hers. Scooting closer, I tug her towards me until we are flush. Front to back. She does not relax against me very much, but that's okay, we'll get there.

Her hair smells amazing, like green apple candies and it makes my mouth actually water. I gather her hair away from her face and and let if fall over her left shoulder. There is a chill that runs through her when my finger tips graze her neck and it's like she vibrates right on my crotch. Fuck. This is going to hurt but I am completely fine with that. I rest my chin on her right shoulder so I can speak to where only she can hear me.

"Why are you sorry?"

"I shouldn't have done that.", she whispers back to me. There no trace of regret in her voice though.

"Should not have done what?" Cirice still hasn't relaxed her body, so I run my hands slowly up and down her arms and tighten my legs to hers. It's probably cooler over here away from the building and fires for her anyway. It takes her a few seconds to answer.

"I shouldn't have.. licked your thumb."

"Then why did you?" She doesn't answer. When I tilt my head enough to just see her, she is chewing at her lip. She wants to tell me, but she won't let herself.

"Why did you lick my thumb if you thought you shouldn't have?"

"Because I wanted to." She looks down at her own hand, twisting her fingers. "You have amazing hands, Ether." She fucking purrs my name. One day soon I will hear her call me Quintessence. I hold out my right hand in front of her.

"This hand?" She runs her finger tips along my palm and I have to clinch my teeth in order not to shiver.

"Yes.", she breaths, taking my hand and looking at it closely. She plays with my rings and before I can ask my next question she slips my entire thumb in her mouth and swirls her tongue around it. I have to inhale through my nose sharply and lift my chin a little. The sensation goes straight groin and ignites my blood further. My left hand that was on her arm is now slowly running the length of her thigh. Down towards her knee and back up again, but this time when I get to her knee I turn my hand towards the inside of her knee and rest it there.

"And what about this hand?", I ask, meaning the one a breath away from being up her dress. I press my finger tips into her skin a little. Then I feel it. She relaxed ever so slightly. Her weight on my chest is a little more noticable and her head is leaning back just a fraction futher back than it was. Regretfully, I have to pull my thumb out of her mouth for her to answer me. I put that hand on her knee exactly like the other one, but I rub my wet thumb across her tights until the fabric gets darker. I slide both hands toward the inside of both her knees and push so gently I'm worried she might not even feel it, but her response tells me she does. Her knees part a few inches. It allows me to run my hands up to about the middle of her thigh and back down again.

"I like both."

"Both?"

"Mhm."

"Well, you can't have both. You'll have to choose one or the other." I run my right hand up to the middle of her thigh on the inside. "Do you want the right hand? Or, do you want the left hand?", I ask as I repeat the motion with the other hand, but take it slightly further. The higher my left hand wanders the more she nobs. Then I move it back down to her knee and she deflates a little against me. This is good. She's relaxing.

"You like the left one better?"

"Mhm, yes.", she says all breathy. While she's dizzy with anticipation, I cross my right leg over hers and hook my heel on the inside of her ankle. She doesn't seem to notice it since I've started drawing small circles with my thumbs on the inside of her knees. Once I've got my foot in the right place I drag it back to the right in one fluid motion parting her thighs fully. She gasps loudly, as I had expected, so I remedy this by cupping my left hand to her right cheek and pushing my thumb against her lips. From the outside it looks like a Ghoul and a Sister snuggling up tight. They can see us from the soft glow of the fire pits, but they aren't paying attention until she makes a sound. A few heads turn, but it's dark enough that if you aren't truely invested as to let your eyes adjust you'll miss us. But if you lock your eyes on us you can clearly make out that her legs are spread apart and one is pinned by my foot.

Her tongue peeks out and grazes my thumb again. Opening her mouth a little wider, she sucks in half of my finger, swirling her tongue around it a few times before she sinks her front teeth into me making me inhale through my teeth nosily. Who knew Sister Cirice was naughty?

"So, you want to play?" She tried to hide a smile as she frees my thumb. "You still have to pick your player, Cirice. Which one will it be? The left one?" I slid my left hand just past half way up her leg and back down again, and she nods. "Or the right one?" I drag my right hand up her leg so slow it's even killing me. I don't stop or go back. Past the lace on her stockings. Past the inner thigh where her skin is so fucking soft it's unreal. From knee to the apex of her thighs until I'm palming her heat.

HOLY FUCK AGAIN.

She's not wearing underwear. It's my bare hand on her bare sex and I am probably more surprised than she is right now. Why is she not wearing underwear? Why do I care? Her head falls back onto my shoulder with a heavy sigh and I laugh to myself.

"I think we have a winner.", I purr in her ear as her eyes roll back and close.

"Mhm.", as she tries to push her hips forward and onto my hand, but my leg has hers trapped and she doesn't make much progress.

There isn't a part of my hand now that isn't drenched. Sweet, naughty Sister is soaked. I gently grind my palm over her clit in small circles until I feel her flexing her trapped leg then I stop. She melts into me entirely with a small whine. I know babe, it hurts me too. There is no way she doesn't feel my growing erection digging into her back, but I don't care. It's too hot in the fucking mask to care. The fire pits around the garden aren't exactly helping either, but their soft golden glow create a mood that no being could replicate on their own. There is just enough light for us to see everyone around the flames and those coming and going through the Fellowship Hall doors. There is plenty of light for them to see us as well. When I start my slow massage over her clit again she sinks her teeth into her lip and her head lulls over to the side a bit closer to me. She is complete puddy in my hands. It's incredible how she's totally let go and allowed herself to get lost in me and what I'm doing to her. It makes my dick hurt, and if this is going to hurt it might as well be fun, right?

I remove my hand from under her skirt and hold it so the light shines off her own slick mess.

"Look," I say, nudging her a little back into reality. "Look at how wet you are in front of all these people." Moving my hand about three inches from her face, I just hold it there. It's not long before she understands what I'm wanting her to do. Her small, small hands come up to cup my one hand as she glides her small, soft tongue up the center of my palm and nearly swollows my middle finger. Sweet Lucifer, why do I keep doing this to myself? I'm risking coming in my uniform for this. I need to finish her off before I do.

I take my hand out of hers and slide it back under her skirt. The skin of her thighs is hot to the touch. I slide my middle finger across her opening twice and on the third time I plunge into her as deep as I can with that finger until it belongs more to her than me. She lets out a small whimpery cry and I can feel her pulsing around my finger. Her moan wasn't that loud, only a few people glanced this direction before giving up and going back to whatever they were doing. But she doesn't notice a thing. I softly curl my finger and watch as her knees fall even more to the sides. This is going better than I could have ever imagined. She is loving this. This sweet, naughty Sister is trying her best to tilt her hips upwards and I am trying my best to keep her from doing so. Her right leg is mine for sure. She's not getting that back yet. After a few hard, quick curls of my finger I take it out of her entirely when I start to feel her tighten up around me. This she does not like.

When my hand is gone her head lifts off my shoulder and she makes a confused and or worried noise.

"Oh, you want more?"

"Mhm."

"Where?"

She reaches out for my hand and directs my finger back into her wonderful cunt which I promptly remove and replace with my two middle fingers. I know I have big hands, but I'm a little worried when I am met with a little too much resistance. I try to slow down and enter her with more ease, but she doens't seem to want it that way. When I stop moving she curls her tiny hand gently around my wrist and pushes herself onto me. She's too tight. She had to have hurt herself doing that. She's squeezing my two fingers like they are the only chance at life she's ever going to get. My heart is beating so hard she has to feel it against her back. But this pounding is panic driven now.

Did she hurt herself?

Did she do that because she thought that's what I wanted?

Is she doing all of this because she thinks I'm in a position of power and she feels obligatied?

What do I do?

If I ask her any of this it'll break the spell if it's real. If I don't ask and I'm right about her not actually wanting to do this I could never life with myself. It's not worth it. If it ruins the moment it ruins the moment. I'm not going to-

"Ether? Breath." I suck in air like I have been under water. I had been holding my breath this entire time.

"Yeah. I'm breathing." Now that I'm back in the moment I realize she's relaxed around my fingers. Just not enough for me to feel comfortable going the speed she wants. I start moving my fingers in and out slowly. Probably too slow, but she can just deal with that for now. There is the faintest movement of her wiggling her toes in her shoes. Why are those solid black high-tops turning me on so much? I'm going to see those Chucks by my ears soon too if she'll let me.

With a little more confidence I start to push a little deep. I keep slight pressure on the nerves that are currently my best friends with the heel of my hand, and she can't seem to keep still. Wiggling her toes, moving her free leg, one hand on my thigh digging her finger tips in when I hit the spot, the other hand still on my wrist. She's burried her face in my neck some time ago, mewling. When I start to curl my fingers the entire bottom half of her body starts shaking like a fucking leaf. Bulls eye.

"What's the matter with your legs, Sister? Are you fine? Do I need to stop?" She shakes her head no in my neck. "I think I should stop before you vibrate off the table." I know I'm kidding, but it still kills me to say.

"No.", she softly mewls into my neck. "Please, no."

"But what about all these people? One glance and they can see us." I curl my fingers a little harder and she becomes even more honey soft around my fingers. No longer concerned about holding my wrist, both on her hands are on each of my legs and she's digging in.

"Look," I hiss in her hear and she shakes her head no. I bump her a little with my shoulder for her to pick her head up from my neck. "Open your eyes, Cirice." But instead of lifting her head when I put just a little more pressure on her hot spot, she moves closer and sinks her teeth into my neck.

She bit me. Again! One more stunt like that and I will blow in my slacks right here.

I move the hand that, until this point, has been on the inside of her left knee up to hold her jaw and move her head away from my neck myself. I hold her jaw, pressing the side of her face to the side of my face so she is forced to look where I look if I turn my head.

"Look. Are you looking?" She nods. We look to our left. "Those ghouls over there probably couldn't see us very well." I slow my fingers after a few rapid, hard curls that made her eniter body weak. We turn our heads, at my lead, to the front.

"Now those ghouls and Sisters could definatly see us if they turned away from the fire." I speed up again and rub against her clit until she starts to whimper. Not yet, baby, not yet. I stop my fingers completely. We turn out heads to the right.

"But these folks over here, you gasp like that one more time they'll turn their heads this way to see what made that noise. And what will they see?" my fingers start moving again, easily. 

"They will see you, Sister. Spead open in front of everyone. Spread open in front of God and Lucifer and the Heavens and Hell." Speeding up again, she whines again.

"Is that what you want? Do you want to make noise and have them look over here and see you spread open with my fingers burried in your sweet cunt?" She's panting. She tries to let her head fall back onto my shoulder again, but that shit is not happeneing. I'm not exactly breathing easy either, so we can just both smother here for a bit. She curls her hand up to my bicep and digs in there, biting her lip to keep her noises contained. Pitifully, I might add. She's not a quiet girl.

"What would your fellow Sister's think if they glanced over here and saw you cum all over my hand? We're outside, Sister. How many people do you think are out here? How many people do you think have already seen you, but chose to look away? One or two? Fifteen?" She's going to lose her fucking mind if I keep talking to her like this. I haven't eased up fingering her and she hasn't eased up tightening around those fingers. A few hard curls and she snaps her free leg to her trapped one and moans a little too loud. Absolutley fucking not. I free her face long enough to push she thighs back open and she tightens around my fingers even more. Some glance this way, but I have no way of knowing if they actually see what we are doing or not.

She's sweating. I can see her forehead glisten and her cheeks are ablaze. I pin her other leg like I did the first one and return my hand to her face just as the best part shows it's self in the form of Pops. This couldn't have been better if I planned it.

He's made his way out to the Garden to talk to more people out here. I doubt she sees him. I doubt she sees anything really. Her eyes are open and moving, but they are so heavy lidded and glazed over there is no way she registers any of it.

"Looks who's headed this way." I give her face a little squeeze to get her attention. "Right in front of us. See?" I'm not sure she can even hear me she's so worked up. "Right there. Can you see the suit? Tell me you can see." She nods weakly. Good, she can still hear me.

"Who is it you see?", I whisper into her ear. She only makes small, cute, fucking hot, noises.

"Who do you see, Sister? Out loud." After a few steadying, but rapid, breaths she tells me.

"Papa Emeritus."

"Papa Emeritus is correct." I let her face go and she stays with me. I run my now free hand down her side and slip it under her dress as well. I find and circle her clit slowly with one hand and ease back with the other hand. More noises that go straight to my boy parts escape her.

"What do you think Papa Emeritus would do if he saw you like this? Outside, on a picnic table, exposed for the whole congregation to see, so close to orgasm you're trembling. What would you do if he saw you come on my hand right before him? He's right there. It could happen any second." I start to speed up. The more I talk to her the closer she gets, but the more I talk and the closer she gets the closer I get as well. This might have been a small mistake. But it's not.

"Do you want the new Papa to see you orgasm, outside, with all of his ghouls and sisters watching? Is that something you want?" At this point I'm talking so low it's more of a growl and a rumble in my chest. She's shaking from head to toe now, but she hasn't looked away from where I'm looking. Meri is weaving his way towards us, shaking hands and smiling and charming the shit out of all of them.

"What if he sees you come and that makes me come?" It's becoming more of a possiblity. It feels like a jack in the box is slowly winding in my stomach. I'm getting too into it. I push my hips forward, pressing my too hard cock into her back and she smacks her hand over her mouth to muffle her gasp. Sweltering Hell, I should not have said that. She liked it and I like that she likes it and it makes it that much harder. It makes me that much harder. I push my hips forward again.

"Do you like the idea of me losing control because of how wild this is making both of us that I blow in my uniform?" I circle my hips against her in time with my fingers, inside and out.

"Because you'll feel it if I do. You feel me already, don't you?" She nods weakly. She drops her arm from mine and reaching behind her and places her hands on the small of my back. Simultaneously pushing herself back and pulling me forward, she grinds my ticking-time-tomb that much closer to the edge. My stomach clinches and my vision blurs. Fuck, I didn't know I was that close until just now. Little minx. I guess I kind of deserve it though.

"Are we going to Monstrance Clock this night? Is that what you want? You want to feel me come against your back? Hear my sounds and feel me twitch and spurt come all over myself and you? Feel the wet and the heat?" She nods in time with our grinding.

I will repent and convert to a God-fearing church if I can keep this woman. She's going to kill me. Pops is not far at all, and the closer he gets the closer we get.

"He's getting closer." She is pushing it and I am fucking loving it. I don't care anymore if I come in my uniform. It will be exquisite. Thinking about it is just making it worse. This is the single most intense experience I've lived through. I'm breathing hard, she's breathing hard, there has to be at least one or two people watching us out of everyone and, Satan help me, I hope it's more.

Abandoning one of her hands from behind us, she reaches between us and squeezes the head of my cock through my pants and I go deaf for a moment. I can't keep my hips still now. There's no point in fighting it. Meri was headed straight for us now. Whether or not he saw us, I don't know. The tone of her breathing is getting higher and higher. I haven't even been paying attention to her breasts nearly in my face this whole time, but they are fucking unreal. She inhales so fiercely that it's more of a squeak than anything else. Those two ghouls are without a doubt seeing us. Oh, yes. Fuck these pants.

"They're watching us, Sister, and we're going to come right in front of them. Are you with me?" She whimpers her response and I can't hold back a grunt when she tightens her grip on my dick. Now I'm just vibrating my hand inside her and on her clit.

"Out loud, Sister. Tell me.", I pant in her ear. 

"I'm.. I'm.. I..", she trails off. She body is rigid. She sound close to tears. Me too, babe. My dick's been in tears long enough I'm stuck to my own leg with pre-cum. I can feel my orgasm settling deep and low. I have no idea if what I say next is true, but I know it's what we both need to hear to end this before it starts hurting. I turn my head and growl, muffled into her ear.

"Papa's watching."

Game over.

The sound she makes is fucking fantastic, but too loud and I have to cover her mouth with my hand. The feeling of her vice like orgasm around my fingers and watching her back arch against my chest seals my fate. I can't help throw my head back. My legs flex in relief if not ecstasy. To keep from growling out some string of obscenities I crash my foot on the bench seat a couple of times.

Fuck.

I'm blind.

I'm deaf.

My entire body is alive and vibrating as I use the hand still leading her through her own release to pull her back towards me as I push forward. I have to slump forward and bury my mask in her neck. This is the longest, most powerful orgasm I've ever experienced. I can't stop. But she can't seem to, either. Or maybe time has stopped. Whatever it is, I can feel my come running down my leg to my knee and I'm still going. Her back must be soaked. And that thought seems to fuel one last hard thrust against her and I'm finally done.

Spent.

Empty.

I think I'm going to blackout.

I don't see Meri anywhere. Was he even that close to begin with or was it just the adrenaline? I drop my hand from her mouth so I don't smother her. I've never been this tired. Her head is leaning back on my shoulder and her mix matched eyes are definitely not seeing anything now. Her mouth is relaxed open and she's panting just as hard as I am. I release her legs from mine and pull my fingers from her. She flinches a little at the action and pulls her legs together. Shit. That probably hurt.

"Sorry, baby.", I barely whisper into her hair. I don't know if she even heard me, but I can't raise my voice any higher than that. Her small, small nod tells me she heard me.

"I think I died.", she breaths.

"I think I'm dead."

"Mmm, but what a way to go."

I think I love her.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading.  
> This whole story has been in my head for some time and I wasn't sure anyone would be interested in it.  
> I love you guys!


	5. Cirice

What. Have I. Done?

It was a mistake. A toe curling, mind blowing, soul shattering mistake. If given the chance, would I do it again? Abso-fucking-lutely.

I can't believe I did that. That's not me. I don't do stuff like that. What's wrong with me?

The church encourages safe lust indulgence, of course, but.. I feel cheap now. How many other Sister's does Mr. Ether have under his belt? Mr. Fire has tons and that's just a known fact. I've only ever been with one guy back in high school and he wasn't exactly nice about it. After him I swore to myself I wouldn't become anyone elses play thing. Then today it all goes fucking out the window.

I'm a statistic now. The Nameless can pretty much have their pick of the litter when it comes to us Sister's. They are the elite. They each have their own following of fans that drool over them. He's going to use this against me somehow I just know it.

My blood starts to run cold even in this boiling hot shower. My face burns. My eyes burn. My vision blurs. I snake my arms around my middle and sob. I'm such an idiot. Who seems like an easier lay?

A. The Senior Sister who is beautiful and thin and doesn't have adult acne.

Or B. The fat Junior Sister with self-esteem and abandonment issues.

It's B. It's always B. I'm always choice B. Goddamnit, I'm so stupid. There's no possible way he could legitimately find me attractive. Just picking off the weakest of the herd.

My chest hurts.

This is exactly what i didn't want to happen. I'm not emotionally equipped for stuff like this. This kind of reverse rejection. I'm not confident enough for 'casual'. Papa Emeritus said I wasn't here to be his sex-cow, but he never said I wasn't his Nameless' sex-cow. Sweet Fallen Angel, tell me I'm not live-in pussy. 

Hot tears are streaming down my face now. Of course I'm not special, I knew this. I guess I just wanted to be badly enough that I'd stuff the obvious under the rug. I have to get out of here. I have to leave. I need to go back home and finish school. I need to leave here. I might have shouted Mr. Water's water into his face, but that doesn't mean I have to do this. I don't have to be part of whatever legend this is. It's too much; I can't stay. God, I can't believe how easily I was sucked into this.

I choke on one or two more sobs before I pull it together successfully. The bathroom is full of steam and the mirror is a sheet of fog on the wall. Good. I don't like looking at myself anyway. I stop the water, grab a towel and dry off thoroughly. It cooled off a lot outside before I came in to take a shower so thankfully I'm not starting to sweat in all this steam. Crying always makes my nose pour, but coupled with the hot shower I'm like a faucet. Ick.

After furiously blowing my nose for five minutes, I pad my way across the hall to my room. Everything's still in a crate or bag from moving it down here earlier. I wonder if it's anything I really need or if I can just leave it all and bolt right now. Maybe I should tell Papa Emeritus to fuck himself one more time before I go? Dirty, old bastard.

I ditch the towel and poke around for my big sleepy shirt. My mattress is still bare. I don't think I saw any blankets in any of the rooms down here. It's going to rain again, I can feel it. It smells like rain.

Fuck it. I'm going home. Now. In the rain or not. My hair is already wet so it doesn't really matter. I can come back for my books and popcorn. I find some sweatpants and put my sneakers on. My bag has my keys and phone and stuff in it already. We don't really have much use for them here so my phones almost dead. Doesn't matter, I don't have anyone to come get me anyway. I lost a lot of people joining the Church and I've put my parents through enough already. I'll just catch a bus or something.

When I step out into the hall I can see that the desk light is on in his office. The office I have to walk through to get out of here. Maybe, hopefully, he's not actually at his desk. I look at my watch; it's tomorrow technically. Watch him try to stop me this time.

Deep breath. Square shoulders. Chin up. Walk.

And he's at his desk, still in his suit, eyes closed and nodding his head to nothing. When he opens them he starts writing on the papers in front of him. I think I'm in the clear because he's busy, but as soon as my shoe crosses the threshold his head whips up to look at me.

"Sister?"

"Go fuck yourself.", I snap as I breeze past him, but not before I see the look of astonishment on his face and his hand fly up in the air. What's he so shocked about? He's busted. His right hand man ratted him out.

I'm out the door when I hear the leather of his chair creak.

"Fucking-", he swears under his breath.

Oh, shit. I hadn't planned for him to be here let alone come after me. He won't actually chase to me the door will he? He got what he wanted already.

I pick up my pace a little when I head his dress shoe clicking on the floor hardwood floors. Lightning flashes through the window as I pass by it followed swiftly by a boom of thunder that shakes the building. I flinch, but I don't stop walking.

"Sister, where are you going? Is dark." He's gaining on me, but I have a plan to lose him at the doors.

"Sister! Why?"

"You know why! Leave me alone!"

"No. I don't know. Why are you going? You will be hit by the thunder!"

"Fuck off!" When I get to the massive wooden doors I can already hear how hard it's begun to rain. I pull the door open and it's like being behind a waterfall. I can't see hardly anything past the first step leading to the stairs. I can lose him in this rain easily. His face will melt off in this rain anyway. I don't bother to look behind me before I dash out into the rain. He's yelling something behind me, but I can barely hear my own thoughts above the rain and constant rumble of distant thunder. I'm soaked in seconds and my sneakers are full of water, but I keep running. The droplets of water are stinging my face and pelting me in the eyes, but I keep running. Lightning blinds me, but I keep running. This was a bad idea, but I keep running.

There is a huge tree up ahead to my left and I make that my target. I crash through puddles that go all the way up to my ankle and sink into the grass and slip in the mud before I reach the goddamn thing. When I'm under the cover of it's branches, I cling to the trunk, breathing hard. How can things go so wrong so fast like this? This morning I woke up just a normal Sister of Sin. Now I'm running from the Papa in my pajamas through the storm of the century because he had one of his men seduce and finger bang me just so he could watch. And all of that happened because I moved in with him after he told me I was a witch he needed help from!

"Why!", he shouts from behind me and I jump. How did he catch up with me? Why is he still chasing me? What more does he want? I turn around just in time to see him slip in the mud and fall forward. He balances himself just in time before he face plants. His hair clings to the side of his face and forehead. I am this close to tears again. I don't cry in front of people under any circumstances. I will not let this bastard see me cry. He runs a gloved hand over his hair to smooth it back, but it doesn't do any good. Once he's under the tree he rips off his gloves and runs his fingers though his hair and out of his eyes, letting the gloves fall into the mud. I'm still clinging to the tree, but I've turned my face away from him. I can't look him in the eye. Not after what he saw. What I let him see. What I let him see and liked it when he saw it. I'm mailing Ether a lit match the next chance I get.

"What is wrong with you? Why are you out here in this? Why are you running from here?" I don't look at him and I do not answer him.

I should have kept running.

I should have stayed inside.

I should have stayed home.

I should have stayed in school.

I should not have come here.

"Sorella! Answer me!" Tears. The tears are here. I spin around and he's right there. Right in my bubble. I put my hands in his chest and shove him as hard as I can, but he holds onto my wrists and we both go stumbling in to the rain again. He doesn't let go of my arms and starts walking us back under the awning of limbs. We come to a stop a foot or so away from the trunk. When I finally look up at his face his white eye is glowing again which means my blue eye was probably glowing then too if that's how it works, but it's the look in his eyes that makes my stomach drop.

"Why do you hate me, Sorella?" He presses my palms tighter to his chest.

"What is it I have done? You are hurtful to me! You tell me to fuck and run away? That's it, no telling me why. Why do you hate me so much like this?" He pauses and furrows his brow in a twist of pain and confusion, but it only makes him more beautiful. There is something in the way his eye dims just slightly after his outburst that makes me feel better? Relieved, maybe? He's staring at me so hard I'm almost certain he can see my soul. The eye might have dimmed, but the pain was still there. I've actually hurt his feelings. I've genuinely hurt him.

"Why!", he shouts again. Only this time his voice cracks. Papa looks away immediately, but doesn't let go of my hands. He's about to cry he's so upset.

He's going to cry, and it's my fault.

I don't hate him. How could I hate him?

What happened with me and Ether, whether it was a set up or not, was great. I loved every taboo, naughty, nasty second of it. I liked it even more when I saw Papa Emeritus. I found out some hardcore kink about myself tonight and I blamed him for it. Ether gave me every possible chance to end it. He would have stopped the moment I said to, but I didn't say stop because I didn't want him to stop. I wanted Papa Emeritus to see and that is unsettling. Thoughts like these have never entered my mind before and it's very, very unsettling. I had zero right to treat him like this because I scared myself. Of course he thinks I hate him. Of course his feelings are hurt. Why would he set me up like that to begin with? What's wrong with me? Look at the pain and hurt in his eyes, he's sensitive.

"I don't hate you." I take my left hand off his chest and gently coax him to look at me with my finger tips on his cheek.

He's crying.

"Yes, you do! Why any other reason you act like this to me?" His bottom lip quivers and my eyes flood with hot tears.

"I don't hate you, Papa Emeritus! I'm sorry! I'm just so scared and I took it out on you. I'm so sorry."

"And am I not allowed to be scared as well? I am as new to this as you, yes? Why can I not be scared, too?" I can't help but take his face in my free hand. He searches my eyes like he's actually looking for the answer in them. He's so worried he will fail he is tying himself in knots over it.

"Of course you can be afraid! I'm so sorry I've hurt you. I don't hate you. I don't want to hurt you. I'm just.." Lost. I'm lost. A flood of light pours out of the sky for what seems like an unnaturally long time for lightning. It's like another movie storm scene. In the light he's so beautiful he doesn't seem real. I'm dazed by it and my hand falls from his face when he turns to look at the prolonged lightning behind him. In slow motion a bead of water drips off his nose. He still have his hand over my hand over his heart. Beads of rain drip from the ends of his hair. Rain is running down his face and falls from his bottom lip. All in slow motion. All illuminated by the most brilliant white light. He looks like he should be on a cologne ad. He looks like an angel.

When he turns back toward me, I see a single tear run from his eye as he blinks. He looks so tired. Tears burn hot down my cheeks as I burst into sobs at the same time the lightning dies and thunder breaks in the heavens.

I yank my hand away from him and throw my arms around his neck.

"I'm just lost, Papa! I don't know what I'm doing anymore." I tighten my arms around him and bury my face in the crook of his neck and just bawl. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me in almost too hard. We stay like this for a moment.

Lost.

Lost in the world, lost in the storm, lost in our legend, lost in each other.

When he pulls me away from him his voice is thick as he speaks.

"So, you do not hate me?" There is so much worry in his eyes. Why is he so certain I hate him? I would answer him, but I'm still crying. Goddamn, it feels good to just cry. I can only shake my head, no.

"Will you come back inside with me?" I nod my head, yes. He runs his hand down my arm to my hand and takes it in his, tugging me along behind him. The rain is still pouring, the thunder is becoming more frequent and I'm so cold im already shaking. It's like an out of body experience when I feel his fingers slip in between mine, tangling our hands together tightly. By the time we've made it to the stoop we're running. Mr. Water and Mr. Air are standing outside, drenched. They look like old statues from a long forgotten utopia. Or dystopia.

"What are they doing out here?", I ask him.

"They like the storms!", he shouts over his shoulder to me. This makes me giggle. Of course they like storms.

We barrell into the entry, but we don't stop running. We squeak on the hard floors, squish in our soggy, muddy shoes, and leave a river of rain water behind us. I feel like a little kid that has been playing in the down pour. He drags me down the hall and into his office and slams the door shut behind us.

"You go be dry, and then you come back to me, yes? Please?" You can tell he is still nervous and upset by hi eye flickering and the way he messes up his words. It's kinda cute. Only after I sniffle a few times and say yes does he loosen his fingers from mine. I start for the hall leading to my new room when his fingers cinch around mine again.

"You come back to me?"

"Yes, Papa Emeritus, I'll be right back. You should dry off too before you get sick." He only nods and lets my hand go. He watches me turn down the hall, but when I look back he's gone. 

 ***

When I emerge from the hall Papa is sitting on the huge couch in a white shirt, a black zip up hoodie and a pair of black sweatpants. It's like looking at a human. I would never have imagined Papa Emeritus in sweats, but why wouldn't he have some? Sweats are awesome. The movement of my entrance breaks his concentration on the floor in front of him. He almost springs up with his hand outstretched to me but doesn't actually wait for me to take it before he reaches down and grabs my hand. He starts toward the office door leading out of his living quarters barefoot and in sweats. I dig my heels into the floor.

"Wait, wait, where are we going? Are people allowed to see you in sweatpants?"

"This way." He almost whispers. Oops, I forgot it's like two in the morning.

He laces his fingers in with mine again and leads us down the hall to the Sanctuary. Our footsteps disappear as we pad across the plush carpet.

"What are we doing in here?", I hiss.

"Shh."

"Just tell me why we're in here and I will." He stops so abruptly I kinda run into him a little.

"In." I look up and he's standing beside the open confession booth door. He nods his head to the bench. I don't ask what or why, I just go in and sit down. He shuts the door and lets himself in the adjoining booth. There are a few moments of silence.

"Whenever you're ready, Sister."

"We're doing confessional right now? Papa Emeritus, why are we in here? Do Papa's even do confessional?"

"I was a Priest as well as a Cardinal, I know how to do this."

"What am I confessing?"

"Are secrets not easier to tell in the dark? Tell me whatever you like, Caro Mia, this is not a confessional."

"I don't know what to say.", I whisper at the screen. "I've had a shitty-shit day, Papa Emeritus. I wish it was over already, but it just keeps going."

"What was shitty-shit about today?"

"Are you kidding me?", I nearly shout.

"Goddamnit, be quiet. No yelling, okay? Okay?"

"Yes, okay, fine. I won't yell."

"Okie dokie-"

"And that wasn't even yelling." He just sighs at me. "Sorry."

"Why was your day as you say it was, Sister Cirice? Tell me as much or as small as you like.", he resumes in a silky soft voice. It's so calming and reassuring. I take a deep breath in. If I were to tell him everything we would be here for another twenty-four hours. If I were to tell him everything it would be redundant because he was there for the whole thing.

"I'm scared."

"What are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid you will soon find out I'm nothing special. I'm afraid that what you say about me is true and I am just as afraid of it not being true. I shouted earlier today and I nearly killed Ether, drown Mr. Water and nearly blew us all up by sparking Mr. Fire. I snapped Mr. Earth's drumstick, and I think that's what I feel bad about the most. I need to get him a new one." I look down at my lap and twist my fingers. Telling secrets is always easier in the dark.

"During your banquet I went outside and Ether found me and we started talking and I accidently put his thumb in my mouth and that led to some other stuff outside under the Tree of Knowledge and I really liked it and he kept whispering things in my ear and I like that a lot and he let me chose everything the whole time and I don't like wearing underwear anyway unless I absolutely have to so I wasn't and it just kinda made things easier to go a little further and then he was saying some more stuff about people watching and stuff and I liked that too and then he said that you were watching us there toward the end and I really liked that and it just kinda pushed things over the precipice and you saw and I blame d you for being a pervert and watching but that was wrong and that's why I ran off because I thought you had set me up but even if you did I was given so many chances to just walk away but I didn't and then I realized that I wasn't actually mad at you I had just scared myself with new and unusual information about myself because I never do stuff like that ever and I took it out on you and I'm so so sorry.", I breath in hard. Damn that felt good to get off my chest.

 "Sister-"

"And I've never had an orgasm before with someone else.", I blurt out. This was exactly what I needed. "And when I was nine I-"

"Sister!"

"Yes? Sorry, was I yelling?"

"No, no.", he clears his throat. "No."

I wait for him to tell me what was the matter, but he just cleared his throat again.

"Papa Emeritus?", I squeak, "Was that too much?"

"Cirice, I'm afraid I don't understand what you are saying. Are you and Om- Mr. Ether-?", he trails off. "You talk of underwear and watching and precipice and that I saw these things. I don't know about any of those things."

"But, he said you saw us. Ether said you were watching us."

 "I'm sorry, I did not see anything like that."

"So, you didn't know? I just told you-."Oh no.. I burst into tears again. Lovely. This is the worst day of my entire life. That smooth talking son of a bitch with fantastic hands is a dead man. I just ratted myself out to The Papa. I tried to ran away because of what happened and he didn't even fucking know!

I cover my face with my hands and just cry. What's the point of trying to keep it in or hide it anymore? I cried in front of him already. There's no way he can't kick me out after this, so why not let the water works flow?

I can hear him scratching around in his booth and the door of mine opens. No no no. I don't want to leave just yet. I want to cry and then I'll go. He creeps into the booth with me and I stick my hand out to push him away, but he takes my hand in his and pulls my arm around his neck as he kneels in front of me, coiling his arms around my waist. And like the weakling I've become today I latch onto him immediately and sob into his neck.

"Why does today have to be so stupid, Papa? I keep fucking everything up. I'm so sorry.", I choke out.

"No, ciliegia, no. You do not fuck everything. You are learning, you are young. You have to make mistakes to be better, yes? Do you think you are the only one to have a stupid day today?"

I sniffle on his shoulder. And shake my head, no.

"Will you do something for me?"

I nod.

"Will you look at me? Please?"

I lift my head, sucking in gulps of air. My face is pink with a few tears streaming down and hair clinging to my cheeks. He smiles warmly at me and his white eye illuminates ever so slightly. He's so sweet and being so nice to me I hang my head choke out another sob. My hands are still on his shoulders and I hang onto him firmly. I don't want him to go anywhere even though it doesn't look like he's going to. He takes my face in both hands, brushing the hair off my cheeks and and wiping my eyes with his gloved thumbs.

"Awe, Bella, it's okay." There is a smile in his voice. He's so different from his brother. There isn't anything cold about him at all. I sniffle again and blink tears away.

"Will you let me tell you somethings that might make you feel better?"

I nod.

"Okie dokie."

As he stands he takes my hand in his again and pulls me to my feet, leading me out of the confession booth. But we don't leave. He directs me into the booth he was in and nudges me towards the seat. When I turn around and look at him with confusion he simply nods and shuts the door. I hear the other door close too and vaguely see him cross the window of the booth I was just in. I wipe my face with the back of my hand and wait.

"I need to confess some things, Sister."

Were we doing this? Is he confessing to me? I don't know how to take a confession.

"Alright, whenever you are ready, Papa Emeritus."

He takes a deep breath.

"I am not a full blood Emeritus. I am only three months younger than my brother. I never thought my Father would allow me to be Papa, so I did very little to prepare for it. My brother hates me because I mess up the blood line. He says I do not deserve to be Papa and that I do not deserve the glory you will bring to this new Era and he is correct. I goof off, I make jokes, I talk too much. I say stupid things.

"And I am afraid, Cirice. I am scared that I will fail. My brother's Ritual was revolutionary and it still wasn't enough. How can I compete with Year Zero? My first brother wrote about the approach the Son of Lucifer, the second told about his arrival. He is here now, amongst us. What is to come next? My brother took us to the top. He pushed us to our prime. His rein was an era of excellence, what is this era to be under my rein, Sister?"

"Zenith.", I say more to myself than to him.

"Che cosa?"

"What?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"What is zenith?"

"Oh, it means a period of time when things are at their peak. Like, an era at it's pinnacle of greatness."

"Yes, this is what I mean. Where else is there to go?"

"Once you've reached the top of the mountain, where else is there to go? You can't go any further up, you can't go to the left or the right. What direction is there?"

"Down. There is no more climbing, you have to let go and fall into the abyss", his voice is thick with defeat and sadness.

"And who is said to have fallen, Papa?"

"Our Morning-Star. He was thrown into the pits."

"And who fell after He did?" He had to think about this for a minute. To be perfectly honest, I had no idea where I was going with this. I was just trying to help him feel better.

"Man."

"Why?"

"They were searching for more. They wanted to be better. They were told to be Godlike and they became greedy."

"What did God do when they kept reaching for more? He abandoned them. He watched them reach and stood by and watched them fall and made them beg to be absolved of the failures he did nothing to prevent. He let them burn here on Earth. God covered them in shadows. God told them to be more like him and when they became like him he cast them down and turned his back."

The door the my confessional booth was immediately ripped open and Papa Emeritus stood in the doorway looking severe. I squeaked and jumped a little. I must have been a little more lost in thought than I realized. He extended his hand urgently and I took it.

"Come.", was all he said, lacing his fingers in with mine again.

He almost ran back to his chambers with me in tow.

"Is everything okay? Papa?"

Once we were in his office, he shut the door and spun around to me to where I took a couple steps back to give him some room. He walked towards me and took my face in his hands again. The look in his eyes was so penetrating I thought he might be trying to set me on fire with his mind, but instead he just shook his head slightly and let out a dry chuckle.

"What have I done to deserve a you?"

He smashes a kiss to my forehead and takes my hand again and leads me down the hall to my room, but when we get there I am reminded that I don't have anything for bedding except for my pillow. He makes a strange noise and pulls me back down the hall, straight through his office to the other hall and through a door that must be to his room.

He opens the door and the smell of clean fabric, thieves oil and white wine mixed with the scent of a perfect summer morning surrounds and intoxicates me. It smells amazing in here. Everything is purple and gold and black. Colors I never would have thought to put together, but somehow are perfect for each other.

This room was plucked straight out of the 1800's by looking at all the dark wood and heavy velvet and satin and silk upholstery and curtains and bedding. There was fantastic crown molding and a the ceiling was painted with demons and angels dancing and kissing and touching in Heaven and in Hell. Boys and girls, girls and girls, boys and boys, and everything in between. The floors were wood like the rest of the church but they were stained much darker, almost black. His poster bed was stained the same tone of black brown. The bedding was purple and black with gold trim and pillows. The walls are a creamy golden color with gold leaf thorns and crosses pressed into it along with the Grucifix. There was a fire place, couch, chairs, bedside tables, lamps and rugs that looked and cost more than my life. It was beautiful. There was a small, green glass bottle with a straw sticking out of the top sitting on a coaster on his nightstand. It was one hundred percent Papa Emeritus the Third. Then it finally hits me how exhausted I am. I've been awake for days it feels like. It's cool and dark and perfect for sleeping into the great beyond. I realize I'm still chilled to from being in the rain. My hair is mostly dry, but still. This bed is everything good and pure in the world. It's so tall that the edge comes up to my belly button.

Papa, still holding my hand, walks us over to what is his side of the bed and begins pulling back the covers.

"Are you wanting me to sleep in here with you?"

I'm certain he can hear my tone of voice by the way he looks up at me. We had had this discussion earlier about how I didn't want to be a pet or sex-cow and he was remembering that.

"No, you will sleep here tonight, not me. I have works to do, yes?"

"Well, where are you going to be working?"

"My desk." He nods toward his office.

Good. I don't want him to go away anymore, but I don't want him watching me sleep either. He lifts his eyebrows in question and I chew at my lip for a second before nodding.

"Do I need to grab a step ladder?", I ask in a sleepy, sarcastic voice.

He shakes his head and does a little hopping motion. Oh my god, Papa has to jump into his bed. This makes me so happy I have to bite my lip no to smile, but it's useless to try and hide it. I'm delirious with exhaustion and end up just looking like an idiot.

"You have to climb into bed, don't you Papa Emeritus?"

Now he's trying to hide a smile and failing.

"Just get in the bed, my problem child."

It takes me a few awkward half jumps to get on the bed, but when I finally make it I make the decision to never leave. These sheets are, dare I say, Heavenly. They may be the softest thing I have ever touched. I let out an uncontrollable moan when I sink into the best bed in the world. It's so perfect here. I quickly bury myself in the blankets and pillows until you can see almost nothing of me. Papa snickers at me. He's just jealous.

You can see me from the nose up and he smooths some of my hair off my forehead with a gloved finger.

"I am sorry about the day you have had, Sister. Tomorrow will be better, yes? You do not worry about classes tomorrow. Please sleep as much as you need."

I nod as I yawn into the sheets. I will sleep until I am dead, little does he know. There is a low rumble of thunder off in the distance that seems to lull me even closer the sleep.

The corners of his mouth turn slightly up in a warm smile before he turns to leave.

"Papa?"

"Hmm?"

"How is your Skull Paint not melting from the rain?"

"This Ben Nye. It don't come off."

I giggle and worm around to watch him go and he winks at me before pulling the door to, but not closing it completely.

Thanks Papa.

***

I wake up with a gasp wondering where I am for a few seconds. I had the strangest, worst, best dream that I can't remember, of course. I peek over at the door and the light that I assume is coming from his desk lamp is shining around the edges. I scoop up some of the blankets and grab a pillow, wrapping everything around me and pad toward the door. When I peek through I can see him sitting at his desk with his feet up, no shoes or socks again, with a pad of paper in his lap, writing. I slip through the door and only when I step on an old, squeaky floorboard does he look up. We stare at each other for a moment, blinking. I walk over to the couch across the room that's facing his desk and flop down on my bottom, still keeping eye contact. The pillow I brought with me is gently places against the armrest and I look back over at Papa. He's still looking at me, too. After a few more blinks, I fall over onto my side and curl up tight under the blankets. Neither of us have said a thing when he goes back to writing. It's a silent "okay" for me to sleep on his couch tonight. The bed was amazing, but it's too big and lonely.

I burrow into the pillow again and fall asleep to the sound of his pen scratching away at the paper.

When I wake up the room is bathed in blood red light from the Wall of Windows. Papa is gone, I don't know what time is it and there is only a catalog laid before me; open to a specific page and book marked with a broken drum stick.

Mr. Earth has chosen a replacement.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He called it, Meliora.


	6. A Journalist

When I was assigned to interview the strangest Satanic church on the block I felt more than just a little nervous. The heads of this flock wore face paint and the sister's of the convent were to wear stockings and a garter belt. They have their own band that not only rocks, but rocks around the world! A band of Nameless Ghouls they imported straight from Hell. To say the least, they were liberated, but if it sounds like a carefree-congregation where, excuse the pun, the Devil may care, you couldn't be more wrong. The Junior Sister's are required to be well versed in many forms of art and literature before advancing to a Senior Sister status. Even more than that to be come a Superior Sister.

The church conducts a lot of Rituals and ritualistic practices. Junior Sisters are allowed to attend some of the Rituals, but not participate. They can practice and watch other Rituals, but the real deal is left to a select few Senior and Superior Sister's and other heads of the clergy.

When asked about Ritual practices some Sister's became very serious while others quivered with excitement. The most important, or the most prestigious, was called _Lacrimis Caelum est Scriptor_ , which in Latin means Heaven's Tears. It was a beautiful Ritual involving the Nameless themselves, a senior member of the Clergy, Sister Imperator, Papa Nihil, Papa Emeritus the First, Papa Emeritus the Second and the current leader of the Church, Papa Emeritus the Third. This unusual, charming, charismatic man has captured the attention of the Church in a way not yet seen. His congregation has exploded in the few months under his reign, but will he complete his "task"? The Task at hand is still not yet fully understood: convert as many non-believers as possible? make the best Satanic anthems ever? take over the world? I'm hoping that since my first trip was a success I'll be invited back for another installment.

 

Picture this, a bare breasted young woman dripping with blood with a smile that could kill and an eye that glows ice blue the same time Papa Emeritus' eye glows white hot. This very maiden is very powerful I am told and is said to bring a great movement of change to the Church. She is the reason I've been granted permission to view tonight's spectical.

With such beautiful scenery and events I was crushed when I was informed I was not allowed to have a photographer accompany me. I wasn't allowed to have my phone or a tablet or my computer. I could have a pen, notebook and a tape recorder. But let's be honest, who has a tape recorder? The Cardinal of the Church graciously allowed me the use of his old school, and frankly bitchin', boom box and a blank cassette tape.

When I arrived I was greeted by Grand Papa Nihil and Sister Imperator. Papa Nihil was a textbook grandfather figure while Sister Imperator was not so snuggly, but they both embraced me as if I had been a life long member. I was shown the grounds while it was still light and it was like a wonderland. Bird, hummingbird and squirrel feeders, flower gardens exploding with color, rose thickets at every turn, water fountains with hand sculpted, black marble Grucifixes and Lucifers. Honeysuckle filled the air and the obligatory stray kitty-cat purred and danced between my feet. There was a huge vegetable garden they said feeds the entire church all summer and then some. After a few scenic routes, Papa Nihil had to excuse himself to prepare for the coming ritual. Even as a by stander I was instructed to wear all white linen clothes and no shoes were allowed in the Chapel of Ritual. I felt like the Messiah walking around in an all white outfit and barefoot.

Upon entering the Unholy Architecture, the floor of the Chapel was marble, but had a strange homey feel to it unlike most sterile cathedrals. There were two stair cases, one on each side of the room that curved up the wall to the second floor where there was a small stage. I am told that the second highest ranking ghouls are to perform tonight in place of the Nameless themselves. I was a huge fan of their band, Ghost, already and a chance to see them live and up close had me vibrating with excitement.

 I was given a metal folding chair in the corner of the room and a TV tray for the boom box. Papa Emeritus the Third himself approached me to solidify their very stringent rules for my visit. When he appeared before me I wasn't sure this was the same man I had come to observe. He wore an all white suit with brilliant gold stitching on the front with white gloves and shoes to match. It was a complete surprise to see an agent of Satan dressed so vibrantly. Perhaps this is why I was instructed to come decked in white as well? He took my hand in both of his and smiled a smile that would make any fan swoon. He greeted and thanked me for coming to the Chapel of Ritual and for providing the Church with some new publicity from perhaps a more positive perspective. Well spoken and smooth as he is, he transitioned into a semi-serious mood and told me what would and would not be allowed. No phones, cameras, computers and no news crew other than myself. This next rule was obviously the most important to him because of his almost father-like tone. He told me, "You do not touch my Sister's of Sin, understand?" I hadn't dreamed of it, I told him. The Sister's were safe from me. I only had eyes for Papa Emeritus if I'm being perfectly honest.

 The sun was down now and everything was about to begin. Hundreds of black candles were being lit. Dozens of intricate candelabras, large and small decorated the room. The Fire ghouls in charge of lighting all of them walked around the room with a small flame in their palms, touching it to their finger and touching their finger to the wick.  Under the balcony, the candle light danced off a white marble Baphomet making the statue look like it was breathing and blinking.

Since the Ritual required the Nameless Ghouls and Papa Emeritus to participate, high ranking ghouls and Cardinal Copia, the senior most member of the Clergy, took their place. Everyone was dressed in white. Papa Nihil wore his white robes, Sister wore a white gown, Papa Emeritus the First wore his white papal robes and Papa Emeritus the Second wore an all white suit as well. As the ghouls filed in to take their place on the above stage I saw that they too were decked in white. Their uniform had not changed save for the color; the emblems on their tunics were black. The Cardinal stood out like a drop of blood in the snow in his vibrant red cassock and fire light flitting off his bedazzled Grucifix and large rings he wore OVER his gloves which also had the Grucifix on the top. The man knew how to accessorize.

 The Ritual began with Deus Culpa as the elite ghouls marched in in single file wearing their white tunics. They lined up in the middle of the room and stopped with their backs to one wall and crossed their arms in front of themselves, left hand on right wrist. Then the sister's came in and I had to look away for a second. They were all topless and wearing only ankle length white linen skirts, a crown of red thorns on their heads and heavy, heavy black eye makeup. Some of them let their hair fall over their breasts while others had theirs brushed back off their bare shoulders. They held their hand before them, cupped, like they held an invisible book. There were six sister's walking slowly and with unimaginable grace toward the Nameless. Their heads were down and as they came in front of the Nameless in order they stopped, turned and looked up. Water, Fire, Ether, Air and Earth; this leaving out a Sister of Sin at the back of the line, and it took me no time at all to realize that was the girl with great powers that would change the face of the Church forever. She didn't look like a witch; she didn't look like a Goddess or a Demon. She had somewhat frizzy hair and had what is called Heterochromia, two different colored eyes. One light blue and one a rich brown. She had a innocence about her and it broke my heart a little when she stopped and turned to nothing. She didn't have a ghoul to partner with. I saw her look around subtly. Was there to be an extra ghoul at the end of the line? Was she to participate in this Ritual alone? I'm writing like mad in my notebook when I see a streak of black and white rush across the front of the balcony and down the stairs.Papa Emeritus dashes down the last few steps and was coming in hot. Too hot. He missed the last step just enough to clip his heel and he went sprawling forward on his white gloved hands and knees. Sister Cirice swooped in to save the day, but he waved her off; standing himself up and fluffing his hair back out of his face with a whip of his head and took his place in line with his Nameless. The sister's still had their hands cupped together until Cardinal Copia began singing and the ghoul's held their hand out, palms facing their Sister. The Sister's had been holding a small amount of faux blood in their hands and emptied it into their Ghoul's waiting hands. It ran through their fingers and dripped on the floor. They pressed their palms together, smearing and smudging the blood between them. The blood was quite realistic and ran down the Sister's arms and ran down the sleeves of the Ghouls and Papa Emeritus as they held their hands up together and intertwined their fingers. The candle light flickered and danced on the walls and floors and twinkled off Papa Emeritus' gold design. With their hands still meshed they began to sing with the Cardinal and chant beautifully and passionately until the end of the song. Once the Chapel was silent there was a heavy clang on the marble floor that made everyone startle a little. Papa glanced behind him and froze. His Skull Paint made him a severe looking man to begin with, but the intensity of his gaze multiplied exponentially. His face whipped up to the Cardinal standing at the edge of the balcony and the Cardinal simply looked up to the ceiling. But there was nothing there.

I had no idea what was going on. Papa Emeritus left the Ritual line and stooped to pick up what had fallen. When he turned around with it in his hand there was no mistaking what it was. Sister's and Ghouls alike stepped back allowing me a better view. In his hand he held a large stake that if I had to guess I would have said it was about nine inches long and made of solid iron. A crucifixion nail had fallen seemingly out of the sky. Papa looked at the nail and looked back up at Sister Cirice in absolute awe. Papa Emeritus the First and the Second advanced from their places in the shadows to see what the hold up was and the elder nearly fainted at the sight of it. Papa the Second did nothing to stable his older brother and gingerly took the nail from his younger. It was dripping blood onto his bare hands but he didn't seem to care. Papa the Third looked back to the young Sister and, upon their eyes meeting, his white eye started to illuminate as her blue eye followed suit. Papa Emeritus opened his mouth to speak, but was cut short by two more nails falling from the ceiling with sharp clangs as they hit the marble floor and bounced and skittered, smearing blood and gliding to a stop at Sister Cirice's feet. All eyes were on her. Papa Emeritus the Second turned to the girl and placed the original nail at her feet to join the others, bowed to the girl and left. He was followed by his older brother being escorted by two nameless ghouls who had been standing on the sidelines and mumbling in Italian. In all this shocking excitement I almost forgot Papa Nihil and Sister Imperator were standing beside me. Papa had the wildest grin I've ever seen and Sister imperator was gone. I hadn't seen her leave.

Outside there was a low rumble that you could feel in your bones. Nothing in the Chapel moved and there was no rain or lightening, but it made everyone look around in wonder of what might happen next. No one knew what to do. The girls and ghouls all looked to Papa Emeritus the Third for guidance in what to do next. The Cardinal was still handing onto the banister when Papa raised his hand about his head, directing his attention to the band waiting behind him and shouted happily "Continua!" to his second in command. Cardinal Copia nodded and as he turned the band started playing the only song that seemed appropriate, Ritual, and even as the music floated down from above, the congregation stayed where they were, not moving. Papa clapped his hands above his head in the most Italian way possible and said "Don't stop now!". At this point I don't know whether the partial I'm sporting if from fear or watching Papa Emeritus in action as he guides his people to do the Dark Lord's work, but I'm thinking it's a little or a lot of both. 

They seem to find themselves and fall back into the order of this Ritual. The Sister's stay were they are and reform their original line as the Nameless walk out of the room. Cirice looks down at the nails still at her feet and gathers them and scans the room for a good place to put them; finding no table or safe stop, she finds me. When her eyes land on me I can feel the heat in my cheeks. She scampers over, and if I weren't a well behaved sinner it would be hard to not look at her vulgarly. She is beautiful in an organic way, but she also has her nipples pierced and it's hard not to stare. When I began writing this I had permission from all the ghouls and sisters to be as descriptive as possible about what I was to witness, so don't go bitching.

Once she is standing in front of me she holds out three, bloody nails and asks sweetly if I could hold them for her and of course I did. She placed them gently in my lap after I moved my notebook to the TV tray occupied by the boom box which was going to be my only record of what I was to see next. I cradled these sacred nails like my life depended on it. As she falls back in line the Nameless file back in with different inscents burning in their bloody hands. They walk themselves into a large circle in the middle of the room and the sister's mesh themselves with their Ghoul partner to the right of them. Once in their proper circle formation the Ghouls hold their small, burning bundle of herbs and inscents high above their head and in a roar chant out "Il Padre!". Followed swiftly was a "The Father!" from the lovely girls in their crown of thorns. The smoke from the burning embers dance and form unusual patterns. It curls around in a spiral or a simple wave. Some of the smoke is black and some a barely visable white hue, but all of it is gathering in a cloud at the center of the circle. The Unholy smog floats gently down to the floor, gathering around the bare feet of these Satanic Foot Soldiers. The Ghouls roar again "Il Filio!". Booming voices bounce off the marble interier of the Chapel and resonate inside human flesh, absorbed. The girls reply, but not uninterupted. Something huge falls from the sky again, landing dead center of the smoke and smog moving and shifting around the cool floor. It hits the ground hard with a sharp crack, but is completely invisable from the cloud. The Nameless hold their burning bushes down to their side and look to small Sister Cirice again. Was this another gift for her or was there something missing from the ceiling this time? Papa Emeritus had been standing at the back of the room ready to take his spot, but was now quick stepping to the group, dress shoes clicking fast. He comes to a hault behind the wonder-girl and places a now bare hand on her shoulder. He simply nods when she looks behind her in question. As she took her first tentative step forward to claim her next offereing the ground shuddered and she stopped. A small plume of fog twists around her feet somehow lovingly. The center of the dust began to spiral in on itself like a small, slow hurricane creating an eye for it's storm. The eye became to flash white and arch with bite size lightening. I was blinded as I believe everyone else was for a moment when an actual bolt of green lighting came from the sky, striking the object at the center of the circle. When we all reopened our eyes and they adjusted to the candle light once more, the smoke had disappeared completely, showing a bent metal object in the floor. It grew dark under this unholy offering and the darkenss began to flow towards Sister Cirice. It was a small river of blood. It hit her toes and pooled slightly around her feet. When the stream of blood that seemed to be unending, but also never gathered became strong enough it brought the treat with it. It finally made its destination and the Ghoul named Earth standing by her side broke the deafening silence by throwing his smudge on the floor and letting out a loud "Whoo! I knew it!" scaring the actual Hell out of everyone. She had been given a hammer. Modeled like a small war hammer it came complete with blood and a few dings. The young woman bends and gently lifts the hammer in one hand and the blood pooled at her feet retreats. She carefully looks over it and smears some of the blood away to reaveal three letters ingraved into the handle. L.M.S. She whips around and shows Papa Emeritus, gaping. She begins to ask if it's true, but is cut short with an affimitive. It's his. She has been gifted Lucifer Morning-Star's hammer. What did it mean? What was it for? Was it the hammer that nailed Christ to the cross? Or was it Satan's personal Witch Hammer? Had he gifted his newest Witch a Witch Hammer as a joke? Was this young woman even a Witch?

All the spilled blood is now draining back into the chip and crack in the marble floor until it has vanished without any trace. Silence consumes the room once more. That is, until the ground rumbles again. It vibrates enough to rattle the candleabras and the small chips from the floor bounce and jump around. And like a geyser, blood bursts from the wound in the ground toward the ceiling. It doesn't touch it though. It begins to gather just below. The blood ripples and moves like the sea and speads across the entire ceiling while everyone watches in utter dis belief. Once the ceiling is just a tide of red satin, the blood stops shooting from the floor immediatly and falls with a sharp clap, splattering everyone with a fine mist of ruby dropplets. The pool sloshes and churns more and more violently, but never spills. There is a boom of thunder that shakes the wrinkles out of the crimson silk sheet that is now the sky. No one moves; no one blinks. The calm is dissrupted by an imaginary stone being plopped into the center of the pond. A silent sinking of liquid and a sinlge drop falling to the earth. But it doesn't move as if it had been dropped. It makes a slow and deliberate desent over Cirice. The girl watches as it gently falls toward her and closes her eyes, head titled back and arms extended down to her side in the fashion of Christ. No one breathes. The spot of blood slows ever more so the closer it gets to it's intended. It lands so softly that she doesn't even flinch. It had lAndes right below her heavy black eye make-up and spills down her cheek when she raises her head back up, her blue eye glowing bright. The droplet was apparently big enough to run down her cheek and continue to fall. It drips off her chin and falls to draw a lazy red river down her right breast and falls from the gleaming piercing in the center to the ground. It isnt long before another falls, and another. Before two breaths are taken the sky is raining blood. Everyone is washed in red. The Sister's hair is quickly dripping and bodies slippery with Tears of Heaven. The Nameless' tunics are pinkening and Papa's hair is also soaked. The rain never runs out. No one had spoken anything yet. They all stand with their hand out catching blood in shock.

The void is finally filled with the bone shaking crash of a cymbal and heartbeat of drums. The Senior Earth ghoul has started slamming away at his drum kit followed swiftly by the Water and Fire and Ether ghouls. Soon the band is in full swing and everyone is dumbfounded with joy. This can't be happeneing, they are thinking. They are being showered with Lucifer's love. They are being showered in Heaven's Tears. And on cue the Cardinal joins with the angelic voice of his predecessors telling us who has the greatest powers.

The black candles never falter. If anything they grow brighter. I glance over at Papa Nihil as he takes a deep inhale of his oxygen and winks at me, a proud Papa, indeed. One of the sisters gets the party started by skipping into the middle of the circe and spinning like a trained ballerina in the rain. Her ghoul partner, Water, swoops in and joins her in one smooth fluid motion and the rest follow suit in their elation and ecstacy of their Lord and leaser. It has become clear that after fruitless ritual after fruitless ritual, they have been chosen for a new Era of Evil by the Dark Prince himself.

Cirice is laughing a laugh that is coming from her core. She couldn't look happier as she throws her arms around Papa Emeritus' neck and he returns the hug with ernest and perhaps a tear of his own in his eye. She backs away and his hands find her face as I see them mouth "Tis the night of the Witch" together through smiles and blood. She is taken by surprise when the Fire Ghoul called Alpha spins her around and scoops her up from under her bottom, raising her above his head with her hammer still in hand, clutched to her chest.

The Ghoul's suits are no longer white.

The Sister's skirts hang heavy from their waists.

Papa's eye hasn't stopped glowing with his Sister's.

Blood continues to fall from the sky and drip from every surface.

Flinging form the horns with ever whip of a head.

It sprays with ever pluck of a cord and splatters with ever slam of a drum stick on drum surface and mists with every crash of a cymbal.

The Cardinal's face is striped with crimson rivulets. 

Blood slips down the Ghoul's masks and falls from the point of their chins.

Sister Cirice is swaying in the arms of Alpha, whose horns are yellow with heat, to the pupset of the music. She lets out a small squeak as he abruptly lowers her to nearly his eye level for "All witchcraft comes from carnal lust, which is in women, insatiable." I couldn't tell if they were saying it together over the sound of the actual growl from the Cardinal.

In the corner Siste Imperator is talking hurriedly to Papa Emeritus the Third and he is nodding pensively. Papa Nihil elbows me, take a long inhale of oxygen and tells me to watch aNetflix learn. He hands me the mask and shuffles over to the Superior Sister and gently takes her hand, interrupting her heated conversation. It looks like he is about to be shooed away until he starts nodding ever so slightly and the already blood soaked Sister Imperator blushes and follows him to the make-shift dance floor. As he passes me on his way there he turns and laughs in my direction. His laugh, however, is over powered by what could only be the booming laugh of Lucifer Morning-Star himself. Papa Nilhil turns slightly toward me and shouts in a weeze, "She's the one!", and turns back to his dance partner. The seriou Sister Imperator has gone away to reveal a jovial Sister of Sin, smiling and laughing.

I am totally forgotten about until a small Ghoul flounces up to me and takes my hand. I'm a little shocked to hear a female voice escape the mask telling me to come on. I look down at the hand that has abducted mine and see small painted nails and rings. Once I am in the rain with her and dancing, all melts away. I'm not a reporter, I'm not a journalist, I'm just another follower. I dance and laugh with my mysterious Ghoulette while the band bangs out hit after hit until the sun rises.

 

I have never been the same since my visit to The Church of Ghost and I have also never looked back. When I asked if it would be alright if I came back, it was a unanimous yes from the entire congregation. So I leave you with this image to fall alseep to and dream about:

Picture a bare breasted maiden with an eye that illuminates the soul, laughing. She holds a hammer in her hand with the initials of the Dark Lord ingraved in the handle. She is in the arms of a Fire Ghoul that spins her around and dips her and twirls her. Her hair is soaked with blood and sticks to her face, neck, back and chest. Alpha air-guitars as she yells praise to the rain and we all float away on the soft sound of Cardinal Copia's voice telling us if we have ghosts, that we have everything. 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
